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No. 5. 


April 7th, 1891. 


Price, 25 Cents, 


THE POPULAR SERIES 

Issued Semi-Monthly. 


The Scourge 
OF Damascus. 

By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 


Single Nmnbers 25 Cents. 

By Subscription, (24 Abs.) fp6 per Anmim. 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

NEW YORK. 


Entered at the Post Office at Neiv YorTc, N. Y., as Second Class Mail Matter. 


THE 


NEW YORK LEDGER. 

The Illustrated National Family 
Journal of To-day. 


A Great Quantity and Variety of Reading. 

enlarged size of the Ledger vsx its new form enables the 
1 publishers to give such an extensive variety of reading 
matter that every number contains something of interest to every 
member of the household. While the older members of the 
household are gathering information from the more weighty 
editorials on the current topics ;and international issues of the 
day, the younger members will find infinite delight and enter- 
tainment in the purity of the stories. The following is only a 
partial list of the 


Eminent and Popular Contributors : 


Amelia E. Barr, 

Margraret Deland, 

Frances Hodg'son Burnett, 
Robert Lionis Stevenson, 
Anna Katharine Green, ^ 

Marion Harland, 

Col. Thomas W. Knox, 

“ Josiah Allen’s Wife,” 
William Henry Bishop, 

Harold Frederic, 

The Marquise Lanza, 

James Russell Lowell, 
Rev. Dr. John Hall, 

Oliver Dyer, 

Lieut. Frederick Schwatka, 
Mary J Safford, 


Dr. Felix Oswald, 

Georg'S F. Parsons, 
James McCosh, 

Rev. Dr. H. M. Field, 
Maurice Thompson, 
Thomas Dunn English, 
Hon. George Bancroft, 
Rev. John R. Paxton, 
Helen Marshall North, 
Prof. Charles F. Holder, 
M. W. Hazeltine, 

James Parton, 

Harriet Prescott Spofford, 
Dr. Julia Holmes Smith, 
Kate M. Cleary, 

Murat Halstead, 


Gen. Jas. S. Brisbin, IT. S. A. 


T he following table of contents gives only a slight outline of 
the rich and varied contributions to the Ledger from the 
pens of the distinguished writers already enumerated and from 
hundreds of others. 


Fifty Dollars’ Worth of Matter for Two Dollars. 


Twenty Complete Wovels, 

Novels of American Life, 

Novels of Foreign Travel, 
Novels of Southern Society, 
Novels of Adventure, 

Novels of Metropolitan Life, 
Emotional Romances, 

200 Short Stories, 

300 Popular Sketches, 

2,000 Short Articles, 

Stories of Adventure, ’ 

Popular Information, 
Household Advice, 

Miscellaneous 


Biographical Sketches, 
Impressive Papers, 
Explorations, 
Humorous Anecdotes, 
Poems and Ballads, 
Scientific Articles, 
Natural History, 

Home Culture, 

Health Suggestions, 
Principles of Etiquette, 
Scholastic Disquisitions, 
Articles of Travel, 
Historical Sketches, 
Articles. 


T his is a variety from which all can make a pleasing selection 
every week ; and, furthermore, it is ample testimony to the 
great merit and value of the coming volume. 


Illustrated Souvenir Numbers. 

F rom week to week, the Ledger will be filled with the illus- 
trations of celebrated artists, and the extra Christmas and 
Easter numbers will be features of special artistic embellishment. 
The charming Whittier souvenir of last year will be succeeded in 
the Christmas number this year by a poem from James Russell 
Lowell, with full-page illustrations by De Meza. These souvenir 
numbers will be sent free to all subscribers. 


The LEDGER is issued weekly, and the subscription 
price is only $2 a year. Send Money Order, Regis- 
tered Letter or Check, at our risk, to 

EGBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York City. 


COUSIN PONS 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 


HONORE DE BALZAC. 


12mo. 439 Pages. With Twelve Beautiful and Characteristic 

Illustrations hy Whitney. Handsomely Bound in Cloth, Price, 
$1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Cousin Pons is one of the most interesting characters in the 
whole range of Balzac’s wonderful creations. Balzac penetrated 
human nature to its depth. There is scarcely a type which 
evaded his keen eye. His characters are types of the living, 
human world swarming at his feet. His creations are as real as 
noble peaks standing out against an evening sky. In every one 
of Balzac’s novels there is a great human lesson. There is not a 
volume you can open which does not set forth some deep human 
truth by means of characterizations so vivid that they seem to 
breathe. So it is with Cousin Pons.” After reading it we 
think of him not as a character in a novel, but as a personage — a 
sweet and true soul — a simple enthusiast for art and beauty at 
the mercy of selfish and vulgar harpies. 





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THE 


SCOURGE OF DAMASCUS 




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Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 



PUBLISHERS. 


THE POPULAR SERIES ! ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 6, 
APRIL 7, 1691. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK. N. Y.. POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 





V ■ 

1 



ijif^ sr 


Copyright, 1868 and 1891, 

BY BOBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


{All rights reserved.) 





PRESS OF 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER, 
NEW YORK, 



The Scourge of Damascus. 


CHAPTER I. 

ULIN. 

Damascus ! One of the oldest cities of the earth, 
and one of the most beautiful ; — the seat of power, 
and the store-house of vast wealth ; — one of the gar- 
dens of the world, where prince and peasant alike 
shared the luxury of fruit and flower, and where art 
vied with nature in grand and pleasurable adorn- 
ments. The Damascus of ages long since passed 
away. 

Horam the Childless was King of Damascus. He 
had passed the age of three-score. His hair and 
beard were white, and his once stalwart frame was 
bent and weak. But not age alone had bent the 
form of Horam. Trouble had touched him heavily; 
and to drown his trouble he had resorted to dissi- 
pation. Once noble and generous, he had now 
become irritable and unjust, and oftentimes cruel. 
Bowed and bent, in the evening of life, sat Horam 


8 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


upon the throne all alone ; and he felt that his 
sceptre must pass to the hands of strangers. Within 
his palace were fifty wives ; but no child ! The 
fairest maidens of Damascus had been his by 
marital right ; Persia, Armenia, and Greece had 
yielded their daughters to his arm ; but within his 
palace there had yet appeared no heir to his throne. 

Within a sumptuous apartment of the royal 
palace, the adornments of which were of gold and 
precious stones, sat the king. It was towards the 
middle of the day, and yet he had just arisen from 
his bed. He had pushed the wine cup from him, 
and was wiping his beard with a napkin, when 
Aboul Cassem, his prime minister entered. The 
minister was a man somewhat past the middle-age, 
with a slight stoop in his frame, which had evidently 
been contracted in the habit of bowing before his 
royal master. 

‘‘Sire, I salute thee with prayer and blessing.’' 

“ Welcome, good Aboul,” returned the king, with 
a faint smile ; “ and be seated. We are alone, and 
there is no need that you should remain standing. 
We are growing old, Aboul, and our limbs are losing 
their strength.” 

“ Yet, sire, let me hope that much of comfort is in 
store for thee.” 

“ No, no, Aboul — no more of comfort for me. But 
for you there may be much. You have children. 
The wealth which you have collected is not to be 
cast upon strangers.” 

“ Sire, your life is not yet ended. Who shall tell 
what benefits Heaven may have in store for thee.” 


Ulin, 


9 


There can be no benefit, Aboul — no benefit while 
I am childless ; and the heaven which gives children 
with its smiles is forever shut to me.” 

Be not too sure, my royal master. Wonderful 
things have happened ; and wonderful things may 
happen again.” 

‘‘ But nothing so wonderful as that, Aboul.” 

We cannot tell, sire.” 

Aboul Cassem, why do you regard me so curi- 
ously ? Why do you press your finger upon your 
brow, as though you had strange thoughts pent up 
in there ? What is it ?” 

‘‘I have strange thoughts, sire.” 

‘‘ Ah— what ?” 

If I tell them, you must listen to me as to one 
who speaks for your benefit alone. 

I shall listen to thee, good Aboul, as to a friend 
whom I can trust. Now speak.” 

Sire, you have seen my daughter ?” 

You mean, Ulin ?” 

“ Yes.” 

Aye, Aboul — 1 have seen her, and I have marked 
her wondrous beauty.” And as the king spoke his 
voice grew deeper ; a flush came to his cheeks, and 
his eyes were lighted up. I have gazed upon her, 
as upon a fair vision sent to show me how little of 
beauty I had in my own household. Once, Aboul, I 
thought of asking her for my wife ; but I restrained 
myself. She was so young — I so old — and you were 
my friend and adviser. But what of her ?” 

‘‘ Ulin has had a strange dream, sire — a dream 
which has thrice been hers. The first time she 


lO 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


dreamed was two weeks ago. In five days she 
dreamed the same thing again ; and in five days 
more it was repeated. She dreamed that you made 
her your wife, and that she bore you a son.’' 

“Did Ulim dream this ?” cried the old king, his 
whole frame quickened with new emotion. 

“ She did, sire.” 

“ But how does it affect her ?” 

“ How mean you ? 

“ I mean — How does she speak of it ?” 

“ She speaks of it as though she felt that there 
might be some deep meaning to it.” 

“Aye,” urged the king, with strange earnestness ; 
“ but does she speak as though she would give her- 
self to the situation ? Will she become my wife ?” 

“ I think, sire, had she been opposed to wedding 
with you, that she would have kept her dream to 
herself. You can see her, and ask her the question 
as you please. 

“ Aboul Cassem, you give me hope of new life. If 
the fair Ulin will become my wife, the new life shall 
be mine. Let me see her at once. But — hold. I 
would ask thee one question. Can she give me her 
whole love ? Will her faith be unshaken by any 
former tie ? I ask this, Aboul, because I would not 
do her wrong. If her heart has ever been — ” 

“ You need say no more,” interrupted the minister, 
“ I know what you mean, and I can answer you fully. 
My daughter has never loved, save her parents. We 
have kept her from the world, and she has never 
shown a disposition to break from the restraint. In 


Ulin. 


II 


short, sire, she has never been in company with our 
sex, excepting myself and an aged uncle.” 

‘‘ I will see her this very day, Aboul. I will come 
to your house.” 

The minister would have brought his daughter to 
the royal palace, but the king would not have it so. 
He called his attendants to assist him in preparation, 
and when he was ready he set out upon his love mis- 
sion. Aboul Cassem conducted him to an inner 
chamber, and when he had become rested the maiden 
was sent for. 

Ulin entered the royal presence with a modest 
tremor in her step. She was beautiful, almost beyond 
conception ; and though nature had endowed her 
with a rare voluptuousness, yet the clear, soft light 
of virtuous purity beamed from every feature. She 
was one of those beings made to love, and to be loved. 
The exquisite beauty of her face was not more charm- 
ing than was the warm heart-light that dwelt in her 
dark eyes ; and the man well read in human nature 
would have quickly decided that the daughter of 
Aboul Cassem needed something noble and true to 
love — that the cup of life's enjoyment could not be 
filled while she remained shut up in her father’s 
house, a stranger to the outer world. 

Horam thought he had never gazed upon anything 
so lovely. The color came to his sunken cheeks 
and he arose from his seat with an elasticity such as 
had not marked his movements for years. He 
greeted the damsel, and bade her be seated. 

Ulin returned the salutation of the king with easy 


12 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


grace. He was older than her father, and the senti- 
ment of respect was the feeling that moved her. 

Fair maiden,'* said Horam, after a reasonable 
time had been spent in other conversation, ‘‘ your 
father has told me of a strange dream which has 
visited you. May I ask you to repeat the story.” 

“I obey you with pleasure, sire,'* answered Ulin. 
She trembled as she proceeded, and a new color 
flushed her cheek. “ I dreamed that I was the wife 
of the king, and that I bore him a son. At the time 
I thought little of the circumstance ; but five days 
afterwards I dreamed the same thing again. It 
seemed curious that the vision should thus re-appear. 
But that was not the end. When five days more 
had passed, the dream came the third time, more 
vividly than before ; and a shadowy presence, like a 
spirit without flesh, hovered near me, and whispered 
to me that my fate was in the dream. • After this I 
told my father what had happened. 

Ulin," said the king, impulsively, I believe the 
spirit told thee truly ; and hadst thou not been 
willing to trust the mystic voice, thy dream would 
never have been told. If thou wilt be my wife, I 
will put away all other women. Thou shalt be alone 
in my love — alone in my heart — and none other shall 
come to my arms. Thou shall be mistress of my 
house, and my throne shall be shared with thee. 
What is thine answer ?” 

Ulin spoke promptly : 

“ Let it be as thou wilt, sire. I ask not the honor 
you have offered ; but I will not refuse thy hand. I 


Ulin. 


13 


am but a simple child, and I only seek to do that 
which appears to be my duty/’ 

Lovely Ulin,” resumed the king, drawing near, 
and taking her hand, I have offered thee this 
honor for a good and sufficient reason. I will not 
claim from thee more than I am willing to give. I 
give thee what I once gave to another. Years ago, 
when the full vigor of manhood was mine, I gave 
my heart and my hand to a wife — ” 

Horam’s voice trembled, and he brushed his hand 
across his brow. 

O,” he continued, with deep emotion, “ I loved 
that woman, even so that I could have died for her. 
Her name was Helena. I made her my queen, and 
I took no other wife. I fondly believed that she 
would give me an heir to my throne. But it was 
not so to be. She was false to me ! In the very 
hour where I fancied that my cup of joy was full, 
the sweet draught was dashed from my lips, and I 
found a ’’cup of bitterness and misery. My Helena 
— my queen — was false ; and the waters of the 
Pharpar swallowed her up.” 

Ulin had heard this story from her mother ; but 
yet she trembled when she heard it thus from the 
lips of the king. She was moved by the keen suffer- 
ing manifested by the monarch, and she also felt 
some sympathy for the unfortunate queen who had 
been drowned in the Pharpar. Perhaps this latter 
feeling was wrong. She asked herself if it might 
not be so. Nevertheless, she could not put it away. 

‘‘ What says Ulin ?’' asked Horam. Will she be 
my wife ?” 


4 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


“ Yes, sire.’' 

The king was overjoyed. He arose and kissed 
the maiden upon the brow, and then turned to 
Aboul Cassem, and showered thanks upon him. It 
was arranged that the marriage should take place 
within a week. 

“ I will return to my palace,” said Horam, ‘‘ and 
send my women all away. My wives shall be pro- 
vided for as befits the station they have occupied. 
I will give them homes, so that they shall not want ; 
I will give them slaves to wait upon them ; and 
those who wish may marry again. And so, at the 
end of the week, all shall be ready for Ulin.” 

Aboul Cassem seemed perfectly satisfied with the 
arrangement, for he loved his monarch, and he 
fondly hoped that his daughter might be the mother 
of the next king of Damascus. 

In the evening, Ulin sat in her chamber, engaged 
in working some flowers of gold upon a piece of 
purple silk. While she thus worked, by the open 
casement, with the last rays of the setting sun trem- 
bling upon the vines that clustered about the 
window, some one unceremoniously entered. 

It was Albia, Ulin’s favorite slave — a dark-eyed, 
pretty girl, some twenty years of age, who had been 
reared from childhood by Aboul Cassem, and who 
loved her gentle mistress truly and devotedly. In 
the city she had sometimes passed for Aboul’s 
daughter, and many there were who had seen her 
with the minister, and believed that they had gazed 
upon the peerless Ulin. 

“How now, Albia?” demanded Ulin, throwing 


Ulin. 


15 


down her work, and winding up the golden thread. 
‘‘ I have been waiting for you.’' 

‘‘ And I have been waiting for you,” returned the 
slave. “ I supposed you would be in the garden 
before the sun went down.” 

“No, Albia. I have had something else to think 
about. I am going to be married.” 

“ Married 1” repeated the girl, with a start of 
astonishment. “ It is not possible. Whom have 
you seen to fall in love with .>” 

“ I have not fallen in love,” replied the princess, 
with a smile. 

“ Then how can you say you are going to be 
married ? How can you have found a husband if 
you have not fallen in love ?’' 

“Don’t you remember my dream, Albia?” 

‘‘What dream ?” 

“The dream that I told you of — the one that I 
dreamed three times.” 

“ You mean that one about being queen ?” 

“Yes. I dreamed that I was queen of Damascus, 
and that I had a son who was to succeed his 
father.” 

“ Well, and what has that to do with your being 
married ?” 

“ Why— can you not see, Albia ? My father has 
told the king of my dream, and the king thinks it 
is an omen. He has asked me to be his wife.” 

“ And have you consented ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But you did not dream that you were Horam’s 
wife.” 


The Scourge ~of Damascus. 


i6 


I dreamed that I was the wife of the king — of 
the king of Damascus — and that is all the same ; 
for who is king of ^Damascus but Horam.” 

O, my dear mistress/* exclaimed Albia, with 
deep concern, ‘‘you must not wed with Horam. 
You do not know what a danger is before you. 
How can you give your hand to a man who don’t 
want your heart ? 

“ He does want my heart, Albia.” 

“ What — when he already has fifty wives ?” 

“ Ah, but he will put them every one away, and 
give to me his undivided love.” 

“Then, my dear lady, it is so much the worse. If 
he has planned to have you for his only wife, he 
will drown you in the Pharpar before another year 
goes over your head. He will drown you just as he 
did the sweet lady Helena.” 

Helena was false to him,” said Ulin. 

“ I don’t believe it,” cried Albia. “Such a gentle, 
lovely creature could not have been false.” 

“ But, my dear Albia, you are talking wildly. 
What do you know of the lady Helena ? She died 
before you were born.” 

“ I know she did ; but there are thousands alive in 
Damascus to-day who knew her very well, and they 
love her memory, and speak of her with tears in their 
eyes. Horam was jealous.” 

“ Be careful, Albia. You are speaking thought- 
lessly. Horam would not have condemned his wife 
to death if he had not possessed positive evidence of 
her guilt.” 


Ulin. 


17 


‘‘ It may have been evidence enough to satisfy 
him ; but — 

Don’t say any more, Albia. I am going to be 
the wife of the king ; and I shall be true and faith- 
ful unto him ; and you shall go to the regal palace? 
and be my friend and companion.” 

The fair slave obeyed her mistress by speaking no 
further touching Horam and the lady Helena ; but 
it was plain enough to be seen that she had not 
ceased to think about it, and, furthermore, that she 
was not yet reconciled to the arrangement. 

An hour later, after the lamps had been lighted, 
Aboul Cassem came in to see his daughter. He 
congratulated her upon the brilliant prospect that 
had opened before her, and hoped that she would 
be contented and happy. 

‘‘ I do not expect,” he said, that you will feel for 
your husband that ardent passion that might be felt 
for a more youthful companion ; but you will love 
him for his kindness, and, when you are a mother 
you will find a noble and inspiring work for your 
heart’s purest affection. I have talked with your 
mother, and she is much pleased with the arrange- 
ment.” 

“ And how is my mother this evening 

“ She is weak, but I hope she is improving.” 

‘‘ My father,” said Ulin, after a short pause, “when 
Horam caused his wife Helena to be drowned, what 
evidence had he of her guilt ?” 

“ He had the best evidence in the world, my child. 
Omar, king of Aleppo, was on a visit to Damascus, 
and was dwelling in Horam’s palace, Omar was an 


i8 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


eye witness of the queen’s guilt. He found her in 
company with one of his own officers. The officer 
confessed his crime, and Omar at once caused him 
to be beheaded. At first the king of Aleppo thought 
of keeping the thing from Horam, but when he 
came to reflect upon the atrocity of the deed, and 
remembered that the infidel wife might bear to the 
throne of Damascus a child of shame and sin, he 
resolved to enlighten his friend ; and he did so. 
When Horam first knew that his beloved Helena 
had been unfaithful, he was fairly beside himself 
with agony and shame. For a while we feared he 
would go crazy ; but he finally bore up, and put the 
false one out of his way. He did right, Ulin. 
Could you have blamed him ?” 

Ulin said, no. And yet, when she was left alone, 
with only her own thoughts to keep her company, 
she wished that she had never heard of Helena! 


CHAPTER II. 

THE PALACE OF THE VALLEY. 

Horam visited at the dwelling of Aboul Cassem on 
the second day ; and on the third day ; and on the 
fourth day ; and at each visit he became more and 
more enamored of the lovely Ulin. It seemed as 
though the fires of youth were being rekindled in his 
frame. He walked with a firmer step ; he gave his 


The Palace of the Valley, 


19 


commands with more power ; and he listened with 
more patience to the complaints of his subjects. 

“ Sweet lady/’ he said, on the occasion of his 
fourth visit, I have made ample provisions for all 
the women of my inner household, and I have the 
pleasure of knowing that they are entirely satisfied. 
My palace is ready for you, and I wish you soon to 
be its mistress.’” 

I await your pleasure, sire,” replied the maiden, 
in a low, kindly tone. 

Your father shall answer for you ?” 

“ Yes.” 

Then our marriage is not far distant. This is 
the third day of the week. On the sixth day we 
will be married. If that shall meet Aboul Cassem’s 
approval, will it meet yours ?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

With a blessing, and a kiss upon the pure white 
brow of the fair one, the king took his leave. He 
sought the prime minister, and announced his 
desire. Aboul was pleased with the plan, and gave 
his ready consent. 

And- thus it was arranged that Ulin should be- 
come the wife of Horam in three days more. 

And how was it with Ulin ! Did she view the 
approaching ceremonies with mnch of joy ? Per- 
haps not. And yet she was not really unhappy. 
She did not love the king — she could not ; he was 
too old, and too stern, and his heart had been 
already occupied too many times. She had taken 
the step from a sense of duty — partly that ; and it 
may be that the glitter of the queenly crown had its 


20 


The Scourge of Damascus . 


influence. At all events, she had consented to 
become the wife of Horam, and she had only now 
to school herself for the new sphere of duty. She 
ought not to have tried thus to school herself, for 
the very effort caused her to reflect upon every pos- 
sible objection. She wished a thousand times that 
she had never heard anything about the lady 
Helena. The fate of that poor queen rested heavily 
upon her mind, and troubled her. 

Albia,’' she said, as she sat alone with her attend- 
ant in the evening, I think the king must have had 
positive evidence of the sin of his first wife.'* 

The slave raised her head, and regarded her mis- 
tress with a curious look. 

You know just what the evidence was,’* she 
replied. 

But he has never drowned a wife since ?” 

‘‘We don’t know about that,” said Albia, with a 
shake of the head. “ He has a great many wives 
since that time, and it is impossible to tell what has 
become of them. Some of them have died — nobody 
knows how ; and some of them have been sent away 
— nobody knows where. The death of Helena.made 
a great noise because she was his first wife, and, at 
the time, his only wife ; and because it was generally 
supposed that she would bear him a child.” 

“ It is not known that he has put any other of his 
wives to death ?” queried Ulin. 

“ I couldn’t say as to that, my mistress. I sup- 
pose you mean to marry with him.” 

“ Yes. The day is fixed.” 

“ Then I wouldn’t think too much about what he 


The Palace of the Valley. 


21 


has done with his other wives. If you have allowed 
the promise to pass your lips, I suppose there is no 
help for it ; and you must bear up as best you can.'' 

‘‘ You misunderstand me, Albia," spoke the 
princess, quickly and eagerly. I do not wish any 
help for what I have done. It pleases me. I have 
no need of more strength to bear me up. I am 
sustained by a sense of duty." 

Well, my mistress," said the slave, after a little 
hesitation, and speaking as though from inward 
compulsion, you are peforming a sterner duty than 
was ever performed for the king of Damascus 
before ; and I pray the good goddess of our land 
that you may reap a happy reward. *' 

Albia might have said more, but her mistress 
stopped her. 

I thank you for your kind wishes, Albia ; for I 
know that they come from the heart. You may 
leave me now." 

Two days more passed, and it was evening again. 
On the morrow Ulin was to be made queen of Da- 
mascus. Her father sought her after the lamps had 
been lighted, and found her in tears. He kissed 
her, and asked her what was the matter. 

She told him that she was not unhappy, and 
assured him that she had no fears. She felt sad and 
lonely. She was sad because her mother was so very 
sick ; and she felt lonely because she was going 
away from her old home. But it would not be long 
so. She hoped that the duties of the new life would 
give healthy occupation to her mind, and that she 
should be contented and happy. 


22 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


“ You will be very happy when you are queen of 
Damascus/’ said Aboul Cassem ; and I shall be 
very proud. The hope is strong upon me — in fact, 
it is a faith — that of my blood, through my beloved 
daughter, shall be the next king. And, my child, if 
that event comes, you will be as happy as I.” 

Yes, father.” So spoke the maiden, slowly and 
thoughtfully, with her head bent, and her fingers 
working amid the folds of her robe. 

“Touching your mother,” pursued Aboul, “she 
had been sick a long time, and I fear that she will 
never be well again. The physicians have frankly 
told me that death alone can release her from her 
sufferings. Your presence cannot help her ; but the 
knowledge that you are haypy in your new relations 
will afford her much relief.” 

“ I think I shall be happy. I shall try to be so. 
I shall be true and faithful, and strive to do my 
duty.” 

“Then you will succeed, my child.” 

Later in the evening the king came, and Ulin 
strove to appear pleasant and hopeful before him. 
He held her by the hand, and told her that he loved 
her more than ever before. He told her that the 
event of the morrow would make him the happiest 
of men. He would be true to her, and he believed 
that she would be equally true to him. 

“ In the morning trumpets shall sound and the 
brazen drums shall be beaten, add the whole city 
sh^li be awakened with a joyful noise,” exclaimed 
Horam, as he gazed upon the beautiful face of the 
maiden. “ Thou shalt be my queen, and there shall 


The Palace of the Valley, 


23 


be none like thee in my kingdom. Sleep to-night, 
lovely Ulin — sleep in thy virgin purity, — and on the 
morrow I shall be blessed.*' He kissed her, and 
departed. 

At midnight Ulin had not retired. Albia sat with 
her, but as yet she had offered no word of cheer. 
How could she ! She knew why her mistress 
suffered, and she dared not touch on the tender 
point. She could see how-the thoughts of the prin- 
cess were running. She knew that the coming mar- 
riage was not a prospect of joy. What Ulin had at 
first planned without reflection, and what she had 
since accepted from a sense of duty, was become 
burdensome. The strange dream, so wonderfully 
repeated, had given direction to her steps, or her 
heart would never have bent to the yoke thus imposed. 
As the hour drew nigh she found herself shrinking 
from the ordeal. 

“I will retire now, Albia. You will be with me in 
the morning." 

My dear good mistress — I may speak one word.’’ 
The slave had risen and taken the princess by both 
hands. 

“ Speak, Albia." 

“ O — it is not too late to save thyself." 

Albia — What mean you !" 

You can escape this unhappy fate. I can — 

‘‘ Stop, stop," cried Ulin, calling a stern look to 
her aid. “ You have said enough. I have no wish 
to escape the coming fate. It is fixed, and it must 
be. It is so decreed, and I bow to the result. If 


24 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


you would help me, try to make the way of my duty 
pleasant ; do not seek to turn me from it.” 

“ Anything to make you happy,” returned the 
faithful slave. 

Then leave me, and meet me with a cheerful face 
in the morning.” 

Shortly afterwards Ulin retired to her couch, pray- 
ing most fervently for the strength to enable her to 
bear up under the new duties that were coming upon 
her. She did not ask to escape the trial ; — she looked 
upon it as a part of her ordained fate ; — she only 
sought encouragement in the path she had resolved 
to travel. 

The morning came ; but the sound of the trum- 
pets was not heard in Damascus. At an early hour 
a messenger was dispatched to the royal palace with 
the intelligence that the wife of Aboul Cassem was 
dead ! 

Ulin went not to her wedding on that day. She 
stood by the bed of death — by the side of her dead 
mother — where she wept the whole day long. The 
king came to comfort her, and to whisper words of 
consolation to the bereaved minister. 

In proper time the body of Aboul Cassem's wife 
was conveyed to the tomb, and Ulin now turned to 
her father for refuge. 

We must not mourn without ceasing, my chil^” 
said Aboul ; nor must we mourn as do those who 
have no comfort. Your mother is better as she is. 
Her life had become almost insupportable, and she 
hailed the approach of death with joy. In the land 


The Palace of the Valley, 


25 


of spirits, where the souls of the departed good are 
blessed forevermore, she will find rest and peace.” 

Ulin listened to her father, and knew that he 
spoke the truth ; and when she came to reflect, she 
was assured that her mother had been the gainer ; so 
she dried her tears, and remembered her mother with 
love and afiection, even as though she had only gone 
on a pleasant journey. 

The king was sorely perplexed. According to the 
laws of his realm, a child must mourn one month 
for a dead parent ; so a month must elapse before 
he could take Ulin for his wife. He would have 
broken the law had he dared ; but Aboul Cassem 
would not permit it. 

“ I am sorry,” said Horam. “ I wish I had made 
her my wife before. Every day is as an age with- 
out her. And, moreover, who can tell what the 
month to come may bring forth. Ulin may be 
unfortunate. Some evil freak may seize her. Now 
that her mother is gone, she will not have so much 
to occupy her mind at home. She may form some 
new acquaintance. I think you said, Aboul, that 
she had never known any male friends save yourself 
and her uncle ?” 

It is true, sire. Until she saw you, she was not 
acquainted with any man outside of our own 
family.” 

‘‘And even those were men with gray heads,” 
suggested the king. 

“ Yes,” answered Aboul. 

“ Then,” pursued Horam, with a show of uneasi- 
ness, “ if she should become acquainted with some 


26 The Scourge of Damascus, 


handsome youth, there might be mischief. She 
does not yet know her own heart.” 

“ You are uneasy without a cause, sire. How 
is Ulin to be brought into contact with such 
danger ?” 

In a thousand ways, Aboul. The very thought 
that she is a promised wife will tend to lift the 
maidenl}’’ restraint. She will feel more like know- 
ing what there is in the world. And the loss of her 
mother, too, may lead her to look in another 
direction for companionship.” 

In short, the old king was already excessively 
jealous. He had put away fifty wives for Ulin, and 
now to have her held back from him for a whole 
month was unpleasant at best. But the probation 
was not all that troubled him. He feared that the 
maiden might fall in love with some youthful rival. 
What should he do ? 

' Look ye, Aboul Cassem, I have planned what I 
will do. Away towards the mountains of Lebanon, 
in a beautiful valley, where art has helped nature to 
fashion one of the loveliest spots of earth, I have a 
palace. It is one which former monarchs have 
built and adorned for purposes of retirement and 
repose. There is but one way of access to this val- 
ley, which is by a narrow, deep cut, through solid 
rock, where one may resist the approach of a thou- 
sand. I will send Ulin to that palace. She shall 
have slaves to attend her, and a hundred eunuchs 
shall keep guard over her. She will be safer there. 
What say you, Aboul ?” 

The minister had no objections ; and, when he 


The Palace of the Valley, 


27 


came to reflect, he was rather in favor of the 
proposition. He was anxious that his daughter 
should be queen of Damascus, and he hoped that 
nothing might come in the way of that consumma- 
tion. When he conversed with himself his thoughts 
ran very much after this fashion : If Ulin becomes 
the wife of Horam, she will assuredly outlive him. 
The old king is not very strong, for the seeds of 
disease are already sown in his system. He may 
not live many years ; and when he dies Ulin will 
be queen.** 

And so Aboul Cassem was willing that his 
daughter should be sent away to the palace of the 
Valley of Lycanius, where she would be safe from 
any influence that might lead her heart away from 
the king. 

When Ulin was informed of the plan she at first 
liked it. She had heard much of the wild beauty of 
the Valley of Lycanius, and she thought they would 
send her thither that she might pass her season of 
mourning in peace and quietness, so she readily con- 
sented to go. Of her own household she was to take 
only her slave-girl, Albia, the king having arranged 
to provide all other attendants. It was on a bright, 
pleasant morning when the princess set out, accom- 
panied by the king and her father, and followed by a 
long retinue of slaves and guardsmen. On the first 
night they reached a quiet vale, where the tents were 
pitched ; and at noon of the following day they 
arrived at their destination. 

Between two high mountains, the bases of which 
came together like the jaws of some mighty monster, 


28 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


was a narrow defile, or gorge, where not more than 
two horses could travel abreast. Through this dark 
and devious pass, for the distance of half a mile, and 
the way opened into a valley of such marvelous 
beauty and luxurious loveliness, that the beholder 
might almost fancy that he had passed the dark 
river, and entered Elysium. Shut in by lofty moun- 
tains was a garden of rarest flowers, and shrubs, and 
trees ; where fruit of every kind grew in lavish abun- 
dance, and where birds of brightest plumage and 
sweetest voice made melodious the soft and balmy 
air. Upon one side, where a silvery stream of 
purest water came murmuring over its bed of crystal, 
arose a palace of whitest marble, in the court of 
which were playing a hundred fountains. 

Ulin thought she should never tire of living in such 
a place. The king asked her if she could content 
herself there for a month ; and she told him she 
believed she could live there forever. She was to 
have everything she needed — everything she could 
desire. Two swift messengers were to be left with 
her, and she could send to Damascus when she 
pleased. Only for her own safety, she was not to 
leave the valley. 

Here you shall pass the period of your mourn- 
ing,” said Horam, and I trust that the hours will 
glide on peacefully. Your own faithful slave-girl 
will be your companion, and I shall leave attendants 
enough to care for your every want, and to protect 
you against every danger. At the end of the month 
you shall sit upon the throne with me, and be blessed 


The Palace of the Valley. 


29 


above all women. Farewell, sweet love, until that 
happy hour.'* 

He kissed her, and went away. 

Her father spoke some few words of cheer, and 
then followed the king. 

For two days Ulin and Albia were very busy in 
examining the peculiarities of the place. The prin- 
cess thought only of the rare beauties which met her 
gaze in bewildering succession, while the keen-eyed 
slave was taking a wider range. 

It is a curious place,’* said Albia, as they sat 
alone, in the evening. 

‘‘ Very curious,” returned Ulin. 

‘^And we are curiously attended,” pursued the 
slave. 

“ How so ?” asked her mistress. 

One hundred stout eunuchs, all black and ugly, 
are left to guard us ; while the slaves who are to 
wait upon us are old and dogged — almost like so 
many mutes.” 

“ It is a curious company surely,” said Ulin, with a 
smile. 

And what do you imagine is its meaning ?” 
queried Albia. 

“ Its meaning ?” repeated the princess, elevating 
her eyes. “ What do you mean ?” 

Why has the king sent you off here, with such a 
guard, and such an attendance ? Why has he forbid- 
den that you should leave the valley 

It is for my safety,” answered Ulin. 

Safety from what ?” 

From danger.” 


30 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


What kind of danger T 

^*You are curious, Albia. What are you aiming 
at. Do you think I am sent hither for any other 
purpose T* 

‘‘ Shall I speak my mind V 
Certainly.” 

“ Then, my mistress, I think the king is already 
jealous. He dares not trust you in Damascus.” 

“You are foolish, Albia. Have I not been in 
Damascus from my childhood ?” 

“Aye, my lady; but your mother has been mistress 
of the house. Now that you are left alone at the 
head of the home, the chances of your coming in con- 
tact with the outer world are multiplied. The king 
would not have you fall in love with some more lova- 
ble man.” 

“ You talk nonsense, girl.” 

“Perhaps I do, lady ; but you can think of it at 
your leisure. I hope I am wrong ; but still I cannot 
account for it all in any other way.” 

“ You must be wrong. It cannot be as you 
imagine. The thought is ridiculous. I shall laugh 
at you, Albia.” 

Ulin did laugh as she spoke ; but very soon she 
grew sober and thoughtful. On the following day 
she noticed more particularly the appearance of her 
attendants, and the bearing of the eunuchs ; and 
when it came night again, and she was alone upon 
her couch, she wondered if Albia might not be right. 
The admission of the thought was enough to perplex 
her ; and when she slept, she dreamed that she 
was the king’s wife, and that she was tied up in a 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


31 


sack, and thrown into the Pharpar, because her royal 
husband was jealous of her. She awoke with a sharp 
cry of alarm, and the thoughts which had led to the 
feverish dream took deeper hold of her mind than 
ever. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE SCOURGE OF DAMASCUS. 

Ulin had been five days in the palace of the valley, 
when at the hour of noon she was informed that the 
king had come to see her. After the messenger who 
had brought the intelligence had retired, Albia 
expressed the opinion that the visit was unseemly. 

“ If you have been sent hither in order that you 
may pass your season of mourning in quiet seclusion, 
why should the king come to trouble you V 

Ulin did not like it. The news made her uneasy. 
It struck an unpleasant cord in her bosom. If the 
prayer of that moment could have been answered, 
she would never have seen the king again. But the 
prayer was a creature of impulse. 

I wish he wouldn’t come,” she said. “ I suppose 
he wants to see if I am safe. I think, Albia, you 
were more than half right. Horam fears that some 
young man may have dropped down from the clouds. 
O, if he begins to be jealous now, what may he be 
when I am his wife.” 

“ Hush, my lady,” whispered Albia. Here he 


32 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


comes ; and you must appear as well before him as 
you can. If you value your own happiness, don't 
let him see you cold. If he is jealous, let not your 
reception of him increase the evil." 

In a few moments more the king had entered the 
apartment ; and Ulin, acting upon the suggestion of 
her slave, received him very kindly. It was not a 
desire to deceive that led her thus to hide her real 
feelings, but it was a fear of some great evil to her- 
self — a fear intensified by the memory of the story 
of the ill-fated Helena. 

She asked if her father had not come. 

No, my sweet lady," returned Horam. He 
was busy. It may appear unseemly for me to come 
hither alone ; but my great love, and my deep solici- 
tude for your welfare, must be my excuse. I hope 
you have found it pleasant here." 

The maiden said she could not have asked for a 
more pleasant place of abode. 

The king was charmed by her smiling speech — so 
different from what she had ever before given him — 
and he fondly believed that she was delighted with 
his presence. 

Ulin, fearing that the least sign of coldness or 
reserve might excite the jealousy of the grey-headed 
monarch, and bring down upon her some terrible 
evil, exerted all her powers of pleasantness, and 
wore the smile upon her face while a pang was in 
her bosom. 

But Horam’s visit was destined to be cut short. 
While he was, for the sixth time, making excuses 
for his visit, the door of the apartment was uncere- 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


33 


moniously opened, and a black eunuch entered — 
not one of those who had been on guard in the val- 
ley, but a stranger to Ulin, covered with sweat and 
dust, as though he had been riding hard and fast. 

‘‘Ha !’* cried the king, starting to his feet. “ How 
now, Sadak } What is the meaning of this ?” 

“ Pardon, sire. I knew not that you were thus 
engaged. They only told me that you were here, 
and I stopped to inquire no further.” 

“ Not that — not that, Sadak. Why have you come 
from Damascus in such hot haste ?” 

“ I came to inform you, sire, that Julian, the 
Scourge of Damascus, is approaching our city !” 

“ Death and devastation !” cried Horam, starting 
back with alarm. “ How know you this ?” 

“We heard from him by way of a merchant who 
was in a caravan that he had robbed.'’ 

“ What caravan ?” 

“ The caravan from Tadmoor, with the riches 
which were on their way from Bassora.” 

“ Those riches were mine,” said Horam. 

“Aye, sire ; and Julian took them — took all that 
belonged to you, but spared the poorer merchants. 
But that is not the worst. He sends word that he 
will lay Damascus in ashes. Aboul Cassem bade me 
hasten hither and give you warning.” 

The king was fairly beside himself with fear and 
rage. The name of Julian was a terror to him, and 
at the sound thereof he trembled exceedingly. And 
he seemed to fear more than the mere physical 
prowess of the Scourge. There was a mystic quality 
in his fear — a nameless dread of the avenger. 


34 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


“ Where is the demon now ?” he asked, after he 
had gazed awhile in silence upon the messenger. 

He is not far from the city, sire. Somewhere 
to the eastward, we think. Your journey back, if 
you make haste, will be safe.” 

I will return,” cried the monarch, smiting his 
fists together ; and I will bring out an army and 
sweep this terrible Scourge from off the face of the 
earth !” 

He bade Sadak go and make ready for the start, 
and then he turned to Ulin. 

You will be safe here, sweet one ; and it will not 
be long before our happiness shall be complete.” 

His words of parting were few, for he was much 
excited, and his voice trembled as he spoke. He 
turned back once after he had reached the door, as 
though he would say something, but finally went 
away without giving the intended speech. From a 
window Ulin watched the royal cavalcade until it 
had disappeared within the narrow pass, and when 
the last man had gone from her sight she turned to 
her companion. 

‘‘Albia, what is it about this terrible robber — this 
Scourge of Damascus ? I have heard something 
about him. I heard my father once speak of him ; 
but my little knowledge of the world did not lead 
me to be inquisitive. Do you know anything about 
him ?” 

“ I have heard a great deal of him, my lady. He 
has been a terror to Damascus for a great many 
years.” 

“ How many years, Albia ? I was thinking that 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


35 


my father said he had not been long known in this 
section/* 

“ I may be mistaken,” said Albia, trying to 
recollect herself. I know that he is a terrible 
Scourge, and that men fear him ; but I do not know 
how many years he has been so. It may not be so 
many as I thought.’* 

“ But who is he ? Where did he come from ?” 

Ah, there is the mystery, my dear mistress. No- 
body knows where he came from ; but it is said that 
he is one whose family has suffered some great 
calamity at the hands of Horam. He is alone in the 
world, so far as relatives are concerned, and Horam 
hath done it ; and so he comes to seek vengeance. 
He has a large body of bold men under him, and 
twice has he met and overcome the forces which the 
king had sent out to capture him. He does not rob 
as common robbers do. He never troubles the poor, 
or those of the middle class ; but the rulers and 
princes of Damascus he causes to suffer.” 

“ Did you ever see him, Albia ?” 

“ Mercy ! no. I would not see him for the world. 
He must be terrible to look upon. I have heard 
one of your father’s officers say that he could strike a 
blow with his fist to fell an ox ; and that before the 
lightnTng of his eye brave men shrank in terror. O, 
I should be afraid to see him.” 

It seems to me that I should like to see such a 
man,” said Ulin, in a musing tone. I have never 
seen such men. The man whose arm can strike 
down an ox, and whose eye flashes forth such power, 
could not harm a helpless maiden.” 


36 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


Upon my life, you have a curious taste,” Albia 
returned. 

‘‘ Because,” added Ulin, with a smile, ‘‘ I never 
had my taste cultivated. Still, in all seriousness, it 
does seem to me that I should love to lean upon a 
strong, bold man. If I were to love a man with my 
whole heart, I should like him to be so strong and so 
powerful and so brave, that his very presence would 
be protection to me. Is that very strange ?” 

‘‘ It is so strange,” replied the slave, significantly, 
‘^that I fancy the king would feel new cause for jeal- 
ousy if he should hear you say so.” 

“ When I am the king’s wife I shall be true to 
him, and I shall honor and respect him. I will love 
him if I can. But, Albia, there is no need of saying 
more. We will have our dinner, and then we will 
walk out into the garden.” 

On the following day, about an hour past noon, as 
Ulin and Albia were sitting together in an apart- 
ment overlooking the park, where the hundred foun- 
tains were playing, they noticed a commotion among 
the eunuchs at the inner entrance of the narrow 
pass. There seemed to be trouble, for the slaves 
were hurrying to and fro, and the eunuchs had their 
swords drawn. A messenger came running to the 
palace, and shortly afterwards those of the eunuchs 
who were within the building, some fifty in number, 
hastened out, and made for the passage. 

‘‘ What can it be ?” cried the princess, in alarm. 

But Albia could not imagine. She could only beg 
of her mistress to take courage, and hope for no 
evil. 


The Scom^ge of Damascus, 


37 


Ere long, however, another messenger came to the 
palace, who made his way to the room where the 
princess was sitting. It was one of the eunuchs, 
and he trembled with excitement. 

How now, Aswad ?” demanded Ulin. ‘‘What is 
the meaning of all this disturbance.?” 

“Alas, my lady,” replied the eunuch, as though 
the words came with an effort, “ an enemy is at our 
gates. The terrible Scourge of Damascus demands 
entrance into the valley.” 

“ What does he seek V* 

“ I dare not tell you.” 

“What seeks he?” cried the princess, authorita- 
tively. “ If there is danger, I would know what 
it is.” 

“ There may not be danger for you, lady. We 
may beat the robber off. We will do so if we can.” 

“ But the king told me that a handful of deter- 
mined men could hold that pass against a thou- 
sando” 

“ But these are not ordinary men,” said the 
eunuch. “This Julian is a very demon, and I verily 
believe that he hath more than human power. Still 
we will do the best that we can.” 

“You have not told me what he seeks. Answer 
me that question — answer it without further hesita- 
tion. 

“ He seeks the maiden whom the king is to take 
for a wife.” 

“ Seeks me ?” uttered the princess, with a start. 

“ Yes, lady. Such is his avowal.” 


38 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


‘‘In mercy’s name, good Aswad, protect me. Let 
not that dreadful robber gain access to the valley.” 

“Hurry, hurry!” cried Albia. “Away to your 
companions, and bid them strain every nerve. If 
they suffer the Scourge of Damascus to gain pas- 
sage hither, they know what the wrath of the king 
must be.” 

The eunuch went away, and the princess and her 
companion watched him as he hastened to join his 
comrades. They saw two of the eunuchs brought 
into the valley as though they were wounded ; and 
from the rocky pass came the sound of clashing 
arms. 

“ Powers of heaven !” cried Ulin, with clasped 
hands, and quivering frame, “ the demon must not 
find us.” 

“You are not so anxious to see him as you were,” 
remarked Albia. “ I thought your whim was a 
strange one.” 

“ Speak not of that,” said Ulin, quickly and 
severely. “ I meant not that I would have him come 
to seek me. O, Albia, what can he want ?” 

“ Indeed, my mistress, I dare not think. But let us 
look in another direction. If he does not find us, we 
care not why he comes. — Ha ! — See !-— Here comes 
Aswad again. He looks frightened. Mercy ! I 
hope the eunuchs are not failing.” 

Aswad entered the chamber with trembling step, 
and seemed afraid to speak ; but the demand of the 
princess opened his lips. 

“ Lady, I fear that the robber will prevail against 
us. He is accompanied by fierce, furious men, who 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


39 


fight like lions ; and his own sword is irresistible. 
His body is covered with scales of finest steel, and 
the blows of our men fall harmless upon him.” 

“ But the dreadful man has not yet broken 
through ?” said Ulin, eagerly. 

No, lady. Our brave men fight as well as they 
can.” 

“ Has the robber entered the pass ?” 

Not far.” 

“ Then you may hold him at bay yet. O, Aswad, 
if you would be blessed forevermore, let not the 
Scourge gain the valley !” 

We will do our best, lady ; but you must be pre- 
pared for the worst. If we are finally overcome, you 
must hide yourself.” 

‘‘Where ? Where can we hide?” asked Albia. 

“ In the palace, or somewhere in the gardens ; or 
upon the mountains.” 

“ There is no hiding place which a keen eye would 
not detect. I have looked in every direction. So, 
Aswad, save us by your stout arms.” 

The eunuch withdrew, promising to do the best he 
could ; and again the girls watched him until he had 
gained the pass. More of the king’s men were 
brought in wounded, and ere long it appeared as 
though the robbers were gaining. 

“ I fear the demons will prevail,” said Ulin, in a 
tone of breathless suspense. 

“ I dare not hope otherwise,” returned Albia. 

“ If they do come, we must find some place in 
which to hide.” 

” Alas, my dear mistress, there is no such place. 


40 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


If we go up among the rocks, we not only run the 
risk of being easily found, but we run the greater 
risk of starving.’' 

“ I would rather starve than to fall into the dread 
Julian’s hands,” said Ulin. 

It would be a terrible death, to starve upon those 
bleak rocks !” returned Albia, with a shudder. But 
I will share your fate, my mistress, let it be what it 
may.” 

“ And would not death by starvation be preferable 
to the fate which must meet us if that monster cap- 
tures us ? O, Albia, I cannot tliink of it !” 

Before the slave could reply they saw Aswad again 
coming towards them ; but he did not enter the 
palace. He struck off into a path that led to the 
westward, and fled with all his might. Directly 
afterwards a score of the eunuchs came rushing from 
the pass, and when they had gained the open space, 
they threw down their swords and sank upon their 
knees. 

“ What means that ?” cried Ulin. ‘‘ Are they 
killed ?” 

“ No,” answered Albia. ‘‘ They are overcome, and 
have surrendered. See ! there come the victors !” 

As she spoke a host of armed men came rushing 
into the valley. Some of them were clad in glitter- 
ing steel, and some wore only helmets and breast- 
plates of brass. 

“Let us flee !” exclaimed the princess, starting to 
her feet. “ O, we must find some place of refuge !” 

Albia was more thoughtful. She saw very plainly 
that flight would be useless. 


A Strange Visitor, 


41 


My dear mistress/’ she said, taking Ulin’s hand. 
“ We must hope for the best. If we leave the palace, 
we shall be overtaken at once ; for the Way to the 
mountains lies only through the park of fountains. 
If we flee to the garden in the rear, we shall be surely 
found, and it may be worse for us in the end. If 
this dreadful Julian has the least spark of humanity 
in his bosom, he will respect you more in your own 
chamber than he would if he found you hiding in 
the garden.” 

“ Spirits of mercy defend us !” ejaculated the 
princess, clasping her hands upon her bosom, and 
sinking back in her seat. ‘‘ O, Albia, Albia, the 
presence of the king would now be a blessing !” 

The faithful slave crept close to her mistress, and 
tried to speak words of comfort ; but her own fears 
were too deep and intense to permit comforting 
power to her words. She could not be calm in view 
of the coming of that dreadful man, at the sound of 
whose name even the monarchs trembled. 


CHAPTER IV. 

A STRANGE VISITOR. 

In fear and trembling sat Ulin, awaiting the com- 
ing of the terrible robber. Half an hour passed, and 
she had not been troubled ; buc during that time she 
had witnessed transactions which were not calculated 
to allay her fears. She had seen over fifty of the 


42 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


king’s eunuchs bound and led away ; and she saw 
that a number of the robbers had been placed on 
guard at the entrance of the rocky passage. They 
were wild, savage-looking men, appearing, to her 
fear-wrought vision, like the evil spirits she had 
heard her old black nurse tell about. 

At length the sound of feet was heard near at hand, 
and very shortly the door of the apartment was 
opened, and a black slave entered. It was a woman, 
and one of those whom the king had left. 

“Good lady,” she said, trembling as she spoke, 
“ the hour of doom has come. I am a slave to a new 
master, and that master has sent me to tell you that 
he wishes to see you.” 

“ Who is he ?” asked Ulin. 

“ I don’t know ; but I think he is Julian the 
Scourge. His look is terrible. Upon his brow sits 
the thunder-cloud, and in his eye flashes the forked 
lightning !” 

“ I cannot go to him.” 

“ He does not expect it, lady. He will come to 
you. He has taken the place ; he has bound all the 
eunuchs ; he has set his own guard at the avenues, 
and now he has put off his robes of war, and would 
see the Lady Ulin. I think he is in haste. If you 
saw him once, you would not anger him.” 

“ Will he come up here ?” 

“ He said so.” 

“ I have no power to prevent him. Tell him I am 
weak and defenceless, and at his mercy.” 

The slave bowed and withdrew ; and in a little 
while some one else came. A heavy footfall sounded 


A Strange Visitor. 


43 


without ; and the door was slowly and carefully 
opened. 

But — Who is this ? — What spirit has thus appeared 
in the palace ! A man had entered the chamber 
alone. He was youthful — not more than three or 
four-and-twenty — with kindly look^ and of noble 
bearing. He was not larger of frame than common 
men ; but the perfect symmetry of form ; the exact 
correspondence of all the parts .; the delicate round- 
ing of the graceful outline ; and the filling up of all 
points where sources of strength could be deposited, 
gave token of a power which might lead the careless 
observer to pronounce him a giant. His skin, 
though somewhat embrowned by exposure, was 
delicate of texture and rich in color ; his features 
were handsome beyond the standard of masculine 
beauty, and the clear, grey eyes, so soft and so mild 
when the smile wreathed around them, might look 
terrible enough to one who had merited their glance 
of wrath. His hair, of a rich golden brown, waved 
in changeful curls over his broad shoulders, sweep- 
ing back from a brow broad and high. His garb 
was of rich purple stuff, with trimmings of gold ; 
and in his hand he carried a turban, ornamented 
with precious stones, and surmounted by an ostrich 
feather. 

He gazed upon the beautiful maiden for some 
moments without speaking, seeming to drink in a 
new inspiration from her loveliness, as the student 
of Nature does when some new and unexpected 
scene of grandeur bursts upon his vision. 

Fair lady,” he said, in softest tones, “permit me 


44 


The Scourge of Damascus^ 


to hope that this intrusion may be pardoned. I 
would not give you pain ; and if you have been 
alarmed, be assured that you have cause for it no 
more. Tell me how I may serve you.’' 

He had approached her as he spoke ; and she, 
without hardly»realizing what she did, arose and 
gave him her hand. If he had gazed upon her with 
admiration, her own feelings had not been entirely 
different. Her woman’s instinct told her that here 
was a man whom she could trust ; and her woman’s 
heart beat with an emotion entirely new and 
strange. 

Noble sir,” she said, meeting his gaze with the 
strength of perfect trustfulness, Heaven has sent 
you to save me from the dread man who has made 
his way to this place. If you have power to do it, 
you will lead me to bless you forevermore.'’ 

Of what man do you speak ?” asked the stranger, 
still holding his hands. 

“ I speak of him who is known as the Scourge of 
Damascus — of the terrible Julian.” 

The man was silent for a few moments, but he did 
not withdraw his gaze from the maiden’s face. 

‘‘ Sweet lady,” he at length said, speaking very 
lowly and tenderly, I am informed that the king of 
Damascus has sent you hither to keep you safely 
until he can make you his wife.” 

“ He hath done so, sir.” 

“ And yet it seems that he did not provide so 
wisely, after all. Would you wish to be carried to 
the king ?” 


A Strange Visitor. 


45 


“ No, no, sir — not to the king. I would be carried 
to my father.’* 

There could be no mistaking the character of the 
emotions under which the princess spoke. With all 
the king’s power her hope was not in him. The 
stranger marked the changes of her countenance ; 
and, while a warmer light shone in his handsome 
eyes, he resumed — 

I cannot say when you shall be returned to your 
father ; but I can give you my solemn assurance that 
I can protect you. I will protect you from the 
hands of those whom you have cause to fear ; and, 
at the same time, I will regard your person as a sacred 
trust, to be respected and purely cherished. And 
now, lady, have 1 your confidence ?” 

Ulin was not acquainted with'the ways of the outer 
world, and she knew nothing of that use of speech 
which is meant only to conceal real thoughts. She 
spoke just as she felt — just as the bursting impulses 
of her impressionable nature led her. And she told 
the man she would trust him — told him so with her 
lips and with her eyes. In fact, it was not difficult 
to determine, from her speech and her look, that she 
already felt herself clinging to the noble stranger 
with a feeling which, could he have seen it, would 
have made the old king more jealous than ever. 

Fair lady, may I sit near you a little while ? I 
have something to say.” 

‘‘ Certainly, sir.” 

He let go her hands, held until now, and when he 
had taken a seat not far from her, he continued — 


46 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


** Lady Ulin, you have spoken of Julian, and I see 
that you fear him. Did you ever see him ?” 

Ulin shuddered as she answered in the negative. 

** Did you ever hear his story ?” 

*‘No, sir. Albia has told me something, but not 
much.*' 

“ I can tell you the whole, if you would hear it.” 

I should like to hear it, fair sir.” 

Believe me, lady, when you have heard what I 
shall tell you, you will not regard Julian with so 
much of abhorrence. But of one thing I give you 
warning : In telling the story of Julian I must 
speak harsh words against your affianced husband.” 

‘‘ My— affianced — husband ?” repeated Ulin, with a 
troubled pause between her words. 

I mean Horam, King of Damascus,*' said the 
stranger, regarding the beautiful maiden as though 
he read her every thought. 

I am not keeper over the character of Horam. 
The truth, spoken in a true cause, will not offend 
me.” 

Then, lady, let me first assure you that Julian is 
not the monster your fears have painted. He has 
never done wrong to any, save the powerful of 
Damascus. Go to the forests and mountains of 
Lebanon, and you shall find a thousand poor peas- 
ants whose families he has befriended. He has 
taken gold and jewels, and precious stuffs of silk and 
linen, from the stores of Horam ; but he hath not 
made himself rich therefrom. He and his followers 
have lived, and beyond this the booty has been 
bestowed upon the poor and needy. Julian hath 


A Strange Visitor. 


47 


also waylaid and broken up caravans ; and turned 
back many expeditions which the king had sent out. 
He may be just what hath been said — he may be the 
Scourge of Damascus ; but he has no wish to 
trouble honest men. His aim has been, vengeance 
upon the king.” 

And why should he seek such vengence upon the 
king ?” asked Ulin. 

I will tell you, lady. But for the king of 
Damascus Julian might be now one of the most free 
and happy men living ; but as it is, he is a stranger 
and an outcast upon the face of the earth. He is a 
wanderer, without a home, and with only such 
friends as are bound to him in his adventurous and 
dangerous course. Once — many years ago — he had 
parents and the prospect of life was bright before 
him ; but in an unhappy hour the gloom and the 
darkness came. Horam, in wicked, jealous wrath, 
swept away all that was bright and promising from 
the path of Julian, and shut out the star of hope for- 
ever. O, sweet lady, I dare not pain your ear with 
all that Horam did. Were I to tell you all, you would 
regard the king as such a monster that your heart 
would close against him, and your very soul would 
shrink at the sound of his name. As true as the heavens 
are above us, so true is it that the heart of Julian is not 
evil. When he looks back upon the utter desolation 
of his young life, and realizes that the king of 
Damascus malignantly and cruelly brought the 
curse upon him, can you wonder that his soul is 
fraught with vengeance ?” 

‘‘ I never heard this story before,” said Ulin, her 


48 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


voice trembling with deep emotion. ‘‘ If it is true, 
as you have told me, I cannot blame Julian so 
much.'' 

** And yet you fear him, lady ?" 

** I cannot help it. He hath come hither in battle 
array, and made war against me." 

“ Nay, nay, sweet lady. You do much mistake 
his intent. I can tell you why he came hither. 
He heard, from a messenger whom he met upon the 
plains of Marthal, that a fair damsel was shut up 
here — a maiden whom the king intended to marry. 
It might have pleased him to deprive Horam of a 
wife ; but it pleased him more to release a gentle 
lady from such enslavement. He knows what the 
king of Damascus has, ere this, done unto his wives. 
He has heard that the dark waters of the Pharper are 
but a short span from the royel bed. And hence he 
came to set free one whom he feared might meet a 
worse fate than the encountering of the Scourge of 
Damascus. Did he commit a grievous sin in this, 
lady ?" 

“ Indeed, sir, I know not what to say." 

“Will you not see Julian? Do not shudder. I 
assure you that he will be most gentle in his bearing. 
But I know he would like to speak with you — he 
would hear from your own lips that you do not 
think him a monster ; and he would also know your 
pleasure." 

“ When will he come ?" 

“ Let it be to-morrow morning, lady. It is near 
evening now, and your rest shall not be disturbed. 
You may sleep as safely to-night as ever you slept 


A Strange Visitor . 


49 


upon your mother’s bosom, and so shall you be safe 
while I am near you. You will see Julian in the 
morning ?’ 

“You will come with him ?” 

“ If you wish it, lady.” 

“ I do wish it, for I feel that I am acquainted with 
you ; and, furthermore, I have said that I would 
trust you.” 

“ It shall be so.” 

And thus speaking, the visitor arose, and moved 
towards the door. He turned, with his hand upon 
the latch, and added : 

“ I trust that your dreams may be sweet and 
pleasant. If dark phantoms come to your pillow, 
they shall not be of Julian. There is another whom 
you have more cause to dread — one who, in hard and 
hoary age, would feast upon the charms of your 
loveliness. Pardon me, for I go with a blessing 
breathed upon thee.” 

In a moment more the man was gone, and the door 
was closed behind him. Ulin gazed vacantly upon 
the spot where he had stood, until she felt a hand 
upon her shoulder. She started, and looked up ; and 
it was only Albia. 

“ My dear mistress, is not this a strange adven- 
ture ?” 

“ Very strange,” replied the princess, casting her 
eyes to the floor, and then slowly raising them to 
that vacant spot. 

“What do you think of the strange man?” the 
slave-girl pursued, sitting down by her lady’s side. 

“ What do you think of him ?” said Ulin. 


50 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


‘‘ I think he is very handsome. He is the most 
noble-looking man I ever saw.” 

Ulin showed by her look that she was grateful for 
this answer. It pleased her, though she may not have 
known it. 

“ Such, a man could not be a bad man,” she said. 
‘‘ Deception cannot dwell in such a face.” 

‘‘ I should think not,” returned Albia, to whom the 
remarks had been put in the form of questions. 

‘‘ And what do you think of the story he told con- 
cerning the robber Julian ?” 

“ I think he told us the truth, my lady. As he 
went on with. the tale, I remembered that I had heard 
it just so before. He told us the truth.” 

Then the king must be a hard, bad man, Albia ?” 

I must not answer you, lady. The king is to be 
your husband, and it is not well that you should urge 
me to speak against him.” 

‘‘ Indeed, girl, I asked you to do no such thing. I 
did not mean that you should speak against the 
king.” 

Then you should have asked me no question 
touching his character. I would rather talk of this 
man who has just left us. I, who am only a poor 
slave, could love such a man.” 

Ulin lifted her hand to her heart, and pressed it 
there as though some new feeling had crept in to 
worry her, and, as she thus sat, one of her black 
slaves came in to see if she would like her supper. 

“ Not now. Calypso,” said the princess, starting up. 

You may bring me some grapes, and a few dates. 


A Strange Visitor. 


51 


But, first, tell me what these strange men are doing. 
How many of them are there here ?’* 

‘‘Not more than a score of them are in the palace, 
my mistress ; but there are thousands of them out- 
side of the valley." 

“ What makes you think so ?" 

“ I heard one of our eunuchs say there must be, or 
he and his companions would never have given up." 

“Then you know nothing of the number beyond 
this V 

“ No, my lady ; only you do not suppose that the 
king’s eunuchs would have given way before any- 
thing less than an overwhelming number." 

Ulin had no disposition to argue the point ; so she 
asked what the robbers were doing. 

“ Since they bound the eunuchs, they have done 
nothing but sit in the garden and talk. The man 
who is with them, and who came up to see you, told 
us that we must go on with our duties just as though 
no strangers had come to us." 

“ Have you seen Julian ?" 

“No, my lady. He has not come in ; and I hope 
that he will not. I think it would frighten me to 
death to look upon him." 

“ But the slave who came to me not long since 
said that she came from Julian himself. How is 
this ?" 

“ I know not. He may have been here, and I not 
seen him. I have not seen them all." 

“ Albia," said the princess, after the black slave 
had gone, “ I do not believe that Julian is such a 


52 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


terrible-looking man, after all. What do you 
think ?” 

** I think,” replied Albia, that people have 
described him who never saw him, and that their 
fear-fraught imaginations drew the picture.” 

‘‘So I think,” returned Ulin. She gazed a few 
moments upon that old vacant spot, and then added: 
“ I shall see him on the morrow, and I must say 
that the thought is not frightful. 1 feel assured that 
he means me no harm.” 

“Yet,” ventured Albia, “it was a curious whim 
which should lead him to seek to release you from 
the hands of the king. But I don’t know as we can 
wonder at it. Perhaps he thought you were some 
friendless girl who did not know — ” 

The princess motioned for her companion to stop. 

“ We will not talk of the king, Albia ; and, touch- 
ing this Julian, we shall know more when we see 
him.” 

Some strange power must have possessed the soul 
of the fair Ulin, for she put away all fear, and went 
to her couch as calmly as though the morrow’s dawn 
was to bring her father to her side. And, more 
strange still, when she dreamed, she dreamed very 
pleasantly — of the handsome robber who had ap- 
peared before her. She had one or two dreams that 
were not so pleasant — dreams that startled her with 
terror ; but they were of the king, and of the dark 
waters of the Pharpar ! 



CHAPTER V. 

LOVE IN DANGER. 

A bright, beautiful morning, with a gentle breeze 
sweeping down the fragrance of flower and shrub 
from the mountain slope. Ulin had eaten her break- 
fast, and, with Albia by her side, sat by an open 
window, gazing out upon the park of fountains. As 
she thus sat, the slave woman Calypso entered the 
apartment, and announced that the robber wished to 
see the lady Ulin. 

What robber ?’* asked the princess. 

The same one that came yesterday.” 

Ulin did not stop to think whether the visit would 
be pleasant or otherwise. The man had signified 
his purpose, and as he was master in the palace, she 
had no idea of opposing him. Calypso withdrew, 
and presently afterwards the robber entered. He 
came in with the same noble step and bearing ; the 
same pleasant, genial face ; and with the same look 
and salute of reverence and respect. 

I trust that the lady Ulin has passed a quiet 
night,” he said, in deep sincerity. 

I have rested well, sir,” she replied. 


54 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


‘‘ Good. I am glad of that. I feared you might 
have bad dreams.’' 

‘‘ Not many, sir.” 

Ah — and did you have any such V' 

** Not — not many.” 

** You dreamt that Julian was a demon, eh ?” 

No, no, sir, — my dreams were not of him.” 

“ I hope, sweet lady, that you dreamed not darkly 
of me.” 

No, sir. It was of — ” 

The maiden hesitated, and seemed troubled ; but 
her visitor came to her assistance. 

“ Never mind, lady. I meant not to inquire into 
the secret twinings of your mind. I only hoped that 
I had not been unfortunate enough to excite the 
apprehension of your slumbering fancies.” 

He smiled as he spoke, at the same time moving 
a step nearer, and then adding : 

I am glad you have not suffered from our com- 
ing ; for I have the more courage to ask you if you 
will see Julian.” 

You said you would accompany him, sir.” 

Yes.” 

Then I may as well see him at one time as 
another. You may inform him that the lady Ulin 
rests her safety and honor in his manhood.” 

He has been so informed, fair lady.” 

Then, let him come.” 

Gentle lady, pardon me if I have led you upon a 
fanciful way of thought. I am Julian. I am he 
whom men call the Scourge of Damascus. And now 
I crave your indulgence ; but still I shall bow most 


Love in Danger. 


55 


humbly to your commands. At your word I leave 
this apartment ; yet, I should like to speak a little 
further. I should like to explain more fully why I 
am here.” 

Was Ulin frightened.^ Not at all. She was 
startled when she first knew that the man before her 
was the dreadful Scourge of whom she had heard so 
much ; but it was an emotion of astonishment. At 
first she could hardly believe that she had heard the 
truth. 

‘‘ You — Julian V she murmured, gazing into his 
face. 

“Aye, lady.” And then he added, with a smile, 
“I suppose you expected to find me black and ugly, 
like the foul genii whom Solomon imprisoned in the 
sea. Am I not right ?” 

“ I did not think you were Julian,” the maiden , 
said, after some hesitation. As she spoke she seemed 
to gain new confidence and composure ; and 
presently she added, “ I had heard so much of your 
terrible deeds, that I expected to find a — ” 

“ A monster,” suggested Julian, helping her out. 

“Not exactly that,” returned Ulin, with a smile ; 

“ though I am free to confess that I should not have 
been so much surprised as I have been, if I had seen 
a worse looking man.” 

“ Thank you,'’ cried the robber laughing. “ I shall 
take that as a compliment, and lay it up among the 
most precious of my recollections. I understand 
you ; so, upon this point, I need only assure you 
that I am Julian, and that I must own the somewhat 
dubious title which has been bestowed upon me. 


56 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


And now, lady, may I sit here for a few moments, and 
speak with you further ?” 

The very thing Ulin had been upon the point of 
suggesting. She did not like to see him standing 
before her ; nor was she anxious that he should 
leave her. She had a strong curiosity to hear him 
speak further. There was something in the appear- 
ance of the youthful adventurer that deeply interest- 
ed her. She bade him be seated, and then, without 
intending to be heard, she murmured : 

So young !’' 

“ Aye, lady,” he said, catching the whispered 
words. ‘‘ I am young — younger, perhaps, than I 
look. Only three-and-twenty years have cast their 
shadows upon me. At that age the youth of the 
city, just breaking from the bonds of parental 
restraint, is as a child ; but with me it has been 
different. A parent I never knew. A kind, generous 
woman, who was my nurse, took the place of a 
mother during my earliest childhood ; and a white- 
haired old man, who lived apart from the world, 
gave me my first lessons of life, and led me up till I 
could protect myself. A father’s fostering care I 
never knew. A mother’s love I never realized. The 
cruel blow which shattered the cup of my joys, killed 
my poor mother ere my tongue could lisp her name. 
As I grew to manhood I knew that I was an orphan, 
and that my misfortune was the work of the King of 
Damascus. O ! how the iron settled into my soul. 
I had grown strong and resolute, as though heaven 
would enable me to work retribution upon the 
tyrant. Do you ask me if I enjoy the life I have led. 


Love in Danger. 


57 


I answer — I have made enjoyments for myself. I 
have felt a peculiar satisfaction in knowing that the 
king feared me. When I have heard my name 
spoken by the rich and powerful with fear and trem- 
bling, I have liked it ; and when I have known that 
Horam dreaded my approach, I have felt that my 
labors were not without their result. But these 
have not been my joys. In Damascus the name of 
Julian is a terror ; but there are other places where 
that name is spoken with love and gratitude. Upon 
the plains of Abilene, and in the mountain passes of 
Lebanon, where the busy craftsmen prepare timber 
for Jerusalem — there Julian is hailed as a friend and 
benefactor. The grim satisfaction of torturing the 
cruel King of Damascus is tempered and softened 
by the calmer atmosphere of these friendly re- 
gions.” 

Why did Ulin sit so still, and listen with such rapt 
attention to the words of the speaker } She bent 
her head as though soft music were stealing o’er her 
senses ; and she gazed upon the man before her as 
though a grand, inspiring picture had been unfolded 
to her vision. His words carried truth in their 
very sound, and all her sym pathies had been aroused. 
She was a woman whose nature had not been warped 
by art ; and the avenues to her soul were guarded 
only by the pure instincts of virtue and humanity. 
Not always the safest guard ; but still the happiest 
when surrounding influences are not evil. 

And now, lady,” pursued Julian, ‘‘ I must tell you 
why I am here ; and in doing this I speak only those 
words necessary to the truth. On my way from the 


58 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


plains I met a messenger, who informed me that a 
fair maiden had been shut up in the Palace of the 
Valley, and that a hundred eunuchs had been set to 
guard her. She was the daughter of Aboul Cas- 
sem ; her mother was dead ; and the grey-headed 
king was going to take her for a wife. I fancied 
that the deed was one of compulsion. I could not 
believe that a beautiful young virgin had willingly 
given herself to the desires of Horam. I thought 
she had been shut up thus against her own pleasure. 
With this belief I resolved to release her. The 
result you know. I have heard your story from the 
lips of the black slave who attends upon you, and 
she informs me that you are affianced to the king 
by your own consent, and without any desires on 
your part to the contrary. Is it so ?” 

“ The slave told you tryly, sir,” replied Ulin, bow- 
ing her head, and speaking in a very low tone. 

“ And you came here to this place of your own 
free will ?” 

Yes, sir. My period of mourning was not passed, 
and the king brought me hither that I might be 
more retired.” 

‘‘And but for the death of your mother you would 
have been the king’s wife ere this .^” 

Ulin replied in the affirmative ; but her voice 
trembled, and she seemed to shudder at the thought 
thus presented. 

“ Lady,” said Julian, showing some emotion which 
he evidently did not mean to show, “ for my seem- 
ing wrong I most humbly oeg your pardon. I had 
thought to wrest from the grasp of the king one who 


Love in Danger, 


59 


was an unwilling captive ; but since I find myself 
mistaken I will do all I can to make amends. A 
few of the king’s eunuchs have been slain, which is 
a deed I cannot repair ; but I can place the remain- 
ing eunuchs on guard again over you, and withdraw 
my forces from the valley ; or I can conduct you in 
safety to the gates of Damascus. In the first place, 
can you pardon me for the mistake I have made ?” 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the princess, quickly and 
frankly. ‘‘ If there is need of pardon, you have it.” 

And now — shall I leave you here, or shall I con- 
duct you to the gates of Damascus ?” 

“ I think I had better remain here.” 

‘‘ Be it as you will, gentle lady.” 

Ulin folded her hands in perplexity, and finally 
she gazed upon Albia. The slave-girl understood 
the look, and modestly said : 

“1 think we had better remain here, my mistress. 
At the proper time your father will come for you.’* 

‘‘ Albia is right, sir,” added the princess, turning 
to her visitor. “ It is better that I should remain 
here.” 

And,” said the robber, rising to his feet, it is 
better that I should leave you at once.” 

He stopped, and swept his hand across his brow, 
and when he resumed, his speech was very low, and 
his voice tremulous : 

“ This has been a most strange adventure ; and as 
I now look upon it, it ‘seems as though some mis- 
chievous sprite had planned it. As I live I thought 
when I came hither but such as I have told you of. 
I have met you, lady ; and for the first time in my 


6o 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


life I have felt my heart drawn warmly towards my 
native city. Henceforth there will be something in 
Damascus towards which my thoughts will turn with 
other sentiments than those of bitterness. Lady 
Ulin, we may never meet again. In this moment of 
our strange companionship, may I not take you by 
the hand T' 

She could not have refused had she wished ; but 
that she had no wish so to do was evident from the free 
and friendly manner in which she arose to meet him. 
She gave him her hand, and suffered him to raise it 
to his lips. 

“Dear lady, should we never meet again, I trust 
that you will bear one kindly thought of Julian. If 
you are forced to think of the wrongs he has done, 
let a memoiy of the wrongs he has suffered be some 
extenuation. Bless you, lady ! All good spirits 
guard and protect you ; and peace be thine forever- 
more ! — Farewell !" 

He turned and was gone. Ulin felt a warm spot 
upon her hand — a drop of moisture — a tear ! She 
gazed upon it, and knew that it came not from her 
eye. It fell there with the kiss. A strange tribute 
from the Scourge of Damascus ! 

Not a word spoke the princess to her attendant. 

She sat down by the window, and saw the robber 
moving towards the mountain pass ; she saw the 
eunuchs move forth freed from their bonds ; and by 
and by she saw a noble form, clad now in instruments 
of steel, leave the palace. She knew who it was, 
though she could not see his face. There was no 
other form like that — no other step so strong and 


Love in Dange^^, 


6i 


so proud — and no other crest so commanding. 
Eagerly she watched the departing chieftain, her 
right hand unconsciously stealing up to her heart ; 
and when he finally disappeared in the pass, a deep 
sigh escaped her. 

Albia was startled when she heard that sigh, and 
her movement attracted her mistress’s attention. 

‘‘ Albia, I think I shall never see that man again ; 
but I shall remember him with emotions far removed 
from fear or terror.” 

“You will remember him as little as possible, my 
mistress,” said the slave-girl, taking a seat close by 
Ulin’s side, and resting her hand upon her arm. 

“What mean you, Albia. ^ Why should my 
memory be narrowed or shortened ?” 

“ Because you are to have a husband who will 
demand your every thought and feeling. Horam is 
deeply versed in all the secrets of the female heart, 
and his eyes will not sleep while you have a thought 
which he does not understand.” 

“ Indeed, Albia,” cried the princess, with a look of 
amazement, “ you misunderstand me.” 

“If such be the case,” replied the girl, very quietl}', 
“ you will forgive me for what I have said ; and of 
Julian we will think no more.’* 

Ah — was it so ? Had Ulin been misunderstood ? 
Had the keen -eyed Albia been mistaken.’ Would 
there be no more thought of Julian 

The day passed away, and towards evening 
Aswad, the chief of the eunuchs, came down from 
the mountains. He said he had not fled from fear 
of the robbers ; but that, when he saw that defeat 


62 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


was inevitable, he had sought safety from capture so 
that he might communicate with Damascus. Per- 
haps he told the truth. At all events, he resumed 
his command, and once more posted his guards about 
the valley ; and then came to assure the princess 
that she was safe. 

It was in the evening, just as the last gleams of day 
were fading out, and before the lamps had been 
lighted— at that season when the thoughts are most 
apt to wander and strange fancies to visit the mind. 

“ How very young, and how noble he is !’* murmured 
Ulin, as though speaking with herself. “ How great 
has been the misfortune of his unhappy life ! Surely 
he cannot be blamed !” 

‘‘You speak of Julian ?” said Albia. 

“ Of Julian,’* returned Ulin, pronouncing the name 
tenderly. “Can you blame him that he hath taken 
up arms against the man who did so deeply wrong 
him r 

“I do not blame him, my mistress ; for I am but 
a poor bondmaiden, and it is natural that my sympa- 
thies should run with the poor who are oppressed ; 
but you, lady, must cultivate different feelings. It 
is better that you should regard Julian as your 
natural enemy.” 

“ How ! Regard him as my enemy ?” 

“Yes, my mistress.” 

“You are mad, Albia. How can I do such a 
thing ?” 

“ I speak only for your future good, lady. When 
you are Horam’s wife, you must be one with him, 
and his enemies must be your enemies.” 


Love in Danger. 


63 


“ And think you,” cried the princess, impulsively, 
‘‘that I can stop the beating of my heart. Can I 
shut up my own memory ? Can I turn traitor to my 
own soul ?” 

The bondmaiden shook her head. 

“ Ah, my mistress, I cannot answer your questions 
as you would have them answered. Since it is too 
late to turn from the path which leads you to the 
king’s couch, it is best that you should seek to make 
that path as smooth and pleasant as possible. 
Pardon me if I have said too much.” 

Ulin made no reply ; and as her silence signified 
that she had no reproof to give, Albia withdrew to 
prepare the evening meal. When the princess was 
left alone, she reflected upon what had been said, 
and finally made up her mind that she would be 
very careful how she allowed the name of the youth- 
ful chieftain to escape her lips again. She did not 
think of banishing him from her thoughts — her 
resolution had not gone so far. 

It was not to be that Ulin should spend the allotted 
time at the Palace of the Valley. The king had 
heard of the attack of Julian, and he came with a 
large army to bear the princess away from a place 
which was no longer safe. He was somewhat sur- 
prised when he found that the Scourge of Damascus 
had been within the palace, and had withdrawn 
again ; and when he had heard the story from 
Calypso, he ordered one half the unfortunate 
eunuchs to be executed within the valley. When this 
cruel order had been carried out, he went with his 
prime minister to see Ulin. 


64 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


The maiden had heard from Calypso of the bloody 
deed which had been done by the king’s order, and 
when she knew that he was coming, she declared her 
intention of refusing to see him. But Albia per- 
suaded her to a different course. 

‘‘As you value your future welfare,” plead the 
bondmaiden, “ so must you behave before the king. 
If you would live in peace, let him have no occasion 
to mistrust your real feelings. He is coming. 
Beware !” 

The warning was most seasonable ; and Ulin, by 
obeying it, so conducted herself that Horam thought 
she only suffered from the dreadful fright occasioned 
by the appearance of the terrible Julian. He spoke 
to her words of cheer and assurance, and announced 
his purpose of carrying her back to Damascus. 

“We will rest to-night, sweet love,” he said, “ and 
on the morrow you shall find a safer shelter.” 

Ulin gazed upon the wrinkled face, and upon the 
quaking limbs, and upon the sparse grey hairs ; and 
she could not repress a shudder. She looked upon 
the thin, hard hands of the monarch, and they seemed 
covered with blood. She watched him as he departed 
with her father ; and when he had gone, she sank 
down, and leaned her head upon Albia’s bosom. 

“ O !” she murmured, “ I fear that I have under- 
taken more than I can accomplish. I cannot be that 
man’s wife ! I never knew him until now. He will 
kill me !” 

“Peace!’' whispered the bondmaiden. But she 
whispered in vain. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE ISRAELITE. 

^ When the king left his affianced bride he was sorely 
perplexed ; and the longer he reflected upon what 
had transpired, the deeper grew his rage and chagrin. 
He walked alone in the garden until the sun had set, 
and then he went in and called for his minister to 
attend him. 

^^Aboul Cassem, what think you of this outrage 
which the Scourge of Damascus has now com- 
mitted 

I think it is high-handed and startling,’' replied 
the minister. 

Has your daughter explained more to you than I 
have yet heard ?” 

She has told me all she knows, sire. The robber 
came, according to his own account, for the purpose 
of wresting her from the king of Damascus ; but 
she refused to go with him ; and so urgent was she 
in her protestations, that Julian finally went away 
and left her. I think, however, that his retreat "was 
hastened by the fear that your majesty might be 
upon him with a dangerous force.” 



66 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


I liave no doubt that such is the case, Aboul. 
But the end of this is not yet. This daring demon 
has run at large long enough. He has already 
stricken fearful blows upon our commerce, and now 
he takes a new course of attack upon our defenceless 
daughters. It has come to be so that a caravan is 
not safe to start from Damascus ; nor are our mer- 
chants safe in returning from other lands. It must 
not be so. By the heavens above me, it shall not be 
so ! I must find some way for tliis man’s capture. 
I have sent out my armies against him, and he has 
either avoided them, or met and overcome them. 
Life of my soul, just think of it. He met a thousand 
of my armed men, and swept them back over the 
plains of Abilene as though they had been so many 
women. What shall I do, Aboul?” 

“ There is but one way, sire, that I can conceive 
of. It seems to be useless to send out force against 
him ; for he is a quick-witted rascal ; and, if he can- 
not successfully cope with them, he can keep out of 
their way. He has spies throughout the whole 
land.” 

Aye — I know he has !’* cried the king, with a 
fresh burst of rage. He has friends among those 
who live very near to our capital. I wish I could get 
hold of them.” 

Get hold of the chieftain first.” 

“ Ah — but how ?” 

“ It must be done by stratagem, sire. If you can- 
not find some one man who is able to entrap the 
Scourge, I see not how you are ever to overcome 
him. A single man with wit, will and endurance 


The Israelite. 


67 


may accomplish much. A little mouse, working in 
secret, may uproot a great tree.” 

‘‘ By my life, Aboul, you have spoken the truth. 
The work must be done secretly. Have I such a 
man about me ?” 

How is it with Judath, the Israelite ?” suggested 
the minister. 

The king started and clapped his hands together 
when he heard the name. 

“ By the shades of Tartarus, good Aboul, you have 
hit the very man. Judah is with us now. I left him 
in the hall as I came in from the garden. I will 
send for him.” 

A slave, who stood just without the door, was sent 
after the man who had been spoken of, and ere long 
he made his appearance before his royal master. 
He was a middle-aged man, with black hair and 
keen black eyes ; with features sharp in outline, and 
moulded into a cast of peculiar cunning ; and with 
body and limbs light and muscular. He was below 
the ordinary size of man; and what he may have lacked 
in physical strength was more than made up by 
quickness and precision of movement. He had been 
a dweller in Damascus since childhood, his mother 
having come from Judea, in poverty and disgrace, 
and giveu him away to an officer of the king's house- 
hold. 

‘‘Judah,” spoke the monarch, “I want you to 
engage in a dangerous enterprise ; but, if you are 
successful, the honor will be greater than the dan- 
ger. Are you willing to try it ?” 

“ Anything, sire, that can yield me honor and 


68 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


emolument," replied the Israelite, with a low bow. 
‘‘Give me the freedom of a citizen, and gird the 
sword of a lieutenant about my loins, and I will 
undertake anything. I would not even hesitate to 
go out against the Scourge of Damascus." 

“Ha! It is the very thing, Judah. It is this 
accursed robber chieftain that I wish to secure. If 
you will slay him, and bring me his head, I will 
make you a free citizen of Damascus ; and if you 
will bring him to me alive, and deliver him into my 
hands, I will not only bestow the citizenship upon 
you, and gird the sword of a lieutenant about your 
loins, but I will give you a house and a wife." 

The black e3^es of the Israelite snapped and 
sparkled like polished gems of jet. He strode across 
the room, and then walked slowly back. 

“Sire," he finally said, “ give me until to-morrow 
morning to think of this. In twelve hours from this 
you shall have my answer. If I embark upon this 
enterprise, I must have some hope for success. I 
will converse with those of the slaves who have seen 
the robber and his men, and their observations may 
help me." 

“ But, Judah, you are not to breathe a word of 
this. My slaves must not mistrust your object." 

“ I understand you, sire ; and I will be guarded. 
Shall it be as I have said ?" 

“ Yes, only bear in mind that the thing must be 
accomplished if accomplishment is possible." 

“ I understand you, sire ; and be assured that my 
wits shall be stretched to their utmost," 


The Israelite, 


69 


‘‘ Aboul Cassem,” said the king, after Judah had 
gone, ‘‘ what do you think ?" 

I think the fellow will study up some grand plot , 
between now and morning. At all events, sire, I do 
not believe you can find a better man for your pur- 
pose.” 

At an early hour the king retired, and all night 
long his sleep was troubled with very unpleasant 
dreams. He dreamed two or three times that the 
Scourge of Damascus had robbed him of his beauti- 
ful bride, and once he dreamed that his throne had 
passed from him. In the morning he was more 
anxious for the apprehension of the robber than 
before, and impatiently did he await the coming of 
the Israelite. 

At the appointed hour Judah made his appearance, 
and announced that he would undertake the task of 
delivering up the terrible Scourge. 

If I succeed,” he said, you will hear from me 
as soon as success crowns my efforts. If I fail, you 
will perhaps hear from me never again.” 

And when will you set forth ?” asked the king, 
almost beside himself with hopeful anticipation. 

At once, sire. This very day, if I can get ready.” 

Do you want help ?” 

‘‘ I would select two of your most trusty eunuchs.” 

“ Take as many as you want.” 

Two will be enough, sire.” 

“ Will you take them from those who have been on 
duty here ?” 

“ No, sire. That would not be safe. The robbers 


70 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


might recognize them. I will have two who came 
with us from Damascus yesterday.** 

‘‘As you will, Judah. Select the men you want, 
and they shall accompany you.** 

The Israelite promised that he would have all his 
arrangements made before the king was ready to 
depart, and with this assurance he went away. 

By the middle of the forenoon the king was ready 
to set forth on his return to Damascus. Ulin and 
Albia were placed within a comfortable box upon 
the back of a stout camel, and around them were 
posted a hundred armed men. The remainder of 
the retinue was arranged under the direction of 
Aboul Cassem, and only the order was needed to set 
the whole in motion. At this point the king with- 
drew to the palace, where he found Judah ready to 
set forth on his dangerous mission, and with him were 
two eunuchs, Osmir and Selim — two resolute, intelli- 
gent fellows, who seemed to love the excitement of 
the work upon which they were about to enter. 
The king was pleased with the choice Judah had 
made. 

“ I might not have hit upon them,** he said ; “ but 
I know they will serve you. And now, what more 
can I do ?’* 

“Nothing,** replied Judah. “ I have all that I can 
use, and am ready for the work. If I succeed, you 
will hear from me in good time ; and if you never 
hear from me, you may at least be assured that I 
failed from no lack of will to serve you.’* 

With a few words of encouragement the king left 
his servant to pursue his own course, and proceeded 


The Israelite. 


71 


to join his army, which was soon in motion ; and 
before the close of another day he arrived at Damas- 
cus, where Ulin was once more suffered to find 
shelter beneath the roof of her father. Touching 
her marriage, it was understood that the ceremony 
should be performed as soon as the period of mourn- 
ing had passed, which would be in two weeks ; and 
until then she was to remain in close retirement. 
Horam asked that she might not be suffered to go 
out, for he feared to have her see too much of the 
outer world before he had secured her hand. 

We must now return to the Palace of the Valley, 
where we left those who were to go in search of the 
robber chieftain. As soon as the king had gone, 
Judah repeated the instructions he had already given 
to the eunuchs. They were not to accompany him ; 
but they were to come after him, in a manner agreed 
upon, and were to conduct themselves towards him 
in all respects as though they had never before seen 
him. 

Towards the latter part of the afternoon Judah 
stripped himself bare to the skin, and caused one of 
the eunuchs to beat him with a leathern thong until 
long livid ridges were raised upon his shoulders and 
back. After this he resumed his clothing, and as 
soon as the shades of evening began to fall, he 
mounted a fleet horse, and rode away to the north- 
ward, towards the plains of Abilene. He knew that 
Julian had taken that course, and he hoped to over- 
take him before many hours. Until midnight he 
sped on quite rapidly ; but after that he moved more 
cautiously, peering and listening, upon the right 


72 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


hand and upon the left, as he advanced. So he rode 
until day had dawned, without seeing or hearing 
anything worthy of note. But he was coming upon 
something very soon. Just as the sky began to glow 
with the rich red glare of the rising sun, he came to 
a point where a narrow pass between two steep hills 
opened into a pleasant vale, and just here his horse 
was stopped by a stout man who advanced, spear in 
hand, from some trees by the wayside. 

Hold !” said the sentinel. ‘‘ Who are you ?” 

A wayfarer, as you may »see,*' replied Judah. 

‘‘Whither are you traveling?” 

“To the north.” 

“ Of what are you in pursuit ?” 

“Just at this present moment I am in most urgent 
pursuit of something to eat.” 

“ Have you money in your purse ?” 

“ Enough for present use.” 

“ Are you afraid of losing it ?” 

“ How r 

“ By robbers.” 

“ Bless you, no. I am rather anxious to see some 
of these robbers.” 

“You may see them sooner than you would like.” 

“ That cannot be, sir; for I would like to see them 
at once.” 

“Ah, — what would you with them ?” 

“ Never mind. If I am so fortunate as to find 
them, they shall know.” 

“ Perhaps I can find them for you.” 

“ I believe you can ; and, my good sir, if you will 


The Israelite. 


73 


conduct me into the presence of Julian, I shall thank 
you/’ 

‘‘ Upon my life, you give me credit for wonderful 
power.” 

I give you the credit of belonging to Julian’s 
band ; and as I am very anxious to see him, I ask 
you, once more, to lead me to him.” 

The man hesitated a moment, and finally said, 
with a smile breaking over his sunburnt features: 

You are free-spoken, and seem to be honest; and 
I think I will lead you to the man you seek. But 
my bold friend, you have need of some fair pur- 
pose.” 

“ Lead me to Julian, and I will be answerable for 
the rest.” 

‘‘Very well; you shall not ask again. Dismount, 
and follow me.” 

Judah got down from the back of his horse, and 
having thrown the rein over the branch of a tree, he 
started after the volunteer guide. Half a mile dis- 
tant, at the edge of a thick piece of wood, the Israel- 
ite was .informed that he must submit to be hood- 
winked. He made no objections, and the robber 
proceeded to bind a sash over his eyes, after which 
he was led some distance further, by a winding, tor- 
tuous way ; and when the bandage was removed, he 
found himself in a low vale, beneath a roof of thick 
foliage, and in the presence of a hundred armed 
men. One man — a handsome, noble-looking youth 
— arose and approached him, to whom his guide 
reported what had transpired. 


74 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


Do you seek Julian ?” asked the stately youth, 
looking upon the Israelite with a searching glance. 

‘‘Yes, sir,*' replied Judah, as frankly and calmly 
as though he had been answering one of his own 
brethren. 

“ I am Julian,” said the chieftain, quietly. 

“Then, sir,” returned the new-comer, with a low 
bow, “ to you I present my petition, 

“ First, — who are you ?” 

“ My name is Judah, and I have been a servant in 
the train of the king of Damascus.” 

“Ah, — is it so ?” The chieftain may have looked 
a little more sharply into the man's face, but he 
betrayed no surprise. “ You spoke of a petition. 
What is it ?” 

Judah removed his mantle, and then stripped off 
his tunic, thus baring his back to the gaze of those 
who stood around. 

“ Do you see that back ?” he cried, quivering, and 
grinding his teeth. “ Do you see where the cruel 
lash has eaten into my flesh? .Horam, king of 
Damascus, put that stain upon me. Do you wish 
me to say more ?” 

“I think you would be revenged upon the king?” 
said Julian. 

I would be placed in the very front of that force 
which is to strike at Horam, or at anything belong- 
ing to him. I am not of Damascus born, and my 
love is not there. I would join my fortunes with 
those of Julian.” 

After a very short conference with some of his 
companions, the chieftain informed Judah that he 


The Israelite. 


75 


might remain where he was ; and that, if he proved 
himself worthy, he should be received into full fel- 
lowship. 

The Israelite expressed himself as thankful for the 
favor thus conferred, and was soon allowed to mingle 
with the members of the band. For two days he 
eat with them, and joined them in their sports ; and 
during that time he knew that watchful eyes were 
upon him. But he was equal to the task, and on the 
third day he was counted as one of them. 

On the fourth day one of the sentinels brought a 
black eunuch into the camp, who gave his name as 
Osmer, and who said that he had escaped from a 
tyrannical master in Aleppo. And he furthermore 
said that he had a companion who was hiding some- 
where in the forest. Before noon said companion 
made his appearance, announcing his name as Selim ; 
and when the two had been questioned, their stories 
were so harmonious, and so frank, that they were 
suffered to remain ; and finally they were allowed to 
perform the duties of body-servant to the chieftain. 

Judah could have asked for nothing better thus 
far ; and he was resolved that his further plans 
should be carefully and surely laid. 

Ah ! Julian little dreamed of the danger that was 
creeping upon him ! 



CHAPTER VII. 

CAGED. 

The circumstances which might have led another 
to hasten his operations, led the Israelite to greater 
care and reflection. He had not supposed that Julian 
would take the two eunuchs to service so near his 
own person, and when he found that such arrange- 
ment had been made, his first inclination was to 
hesitate least a suspicion of the slaves' honesty had 
led the chieftain to place them thus near him. How- 
ever, after the lapse of a few days, Judah was satis- 
fied that no suspicion was entertained against him- 
self or his companions, and he began to turn his 
attention to the work he had in hand. 

On the morning of the fourth day J ulian announced 
his intention of moving, and gave orders that his 
men should be in readiness. A spy had arrived dur- 
ing the night with intelligence that a large caravan 
was on its way from Tyre to Damascus, and the 
chieftain had determined to intercept it. Some 
wealthy merchants from Rome were in the approach- 
ing train, and it was probable that they bore wealth 
for Horam. 

Just as the sun was rising, while Judah was in the 



Caged. 


77 


wood after his horse, he was accosted by Osmir, who 
had been out on an errand for the chieftain. 

Ah, my master,” said the eunuch, gazing care- 
fully around to see that he was not observed ; I 
am glad that I have met you. I have been wonder- 
ing whether you meant to carry out the plan which 
brought us here.” 

Why have you wondered at such a thing ?” asked 
Judah. 

‘‘ Because,” replied Osmir, “ I have made up my 
mind that if the choice of masters were left to me, I 
should choose to serve Julian rather than the king of 
Damascus. I like him much the best. He is not 
such a terrible man as has been represented. He is 
a kind, generous man, and I blame him not for his 
hatred of Horam.” 

‘‘ Well, sir,” said the Israelite, speaking quickly 
and sternly, do you think of turning your face 
from the work we have to do ?” 

‘‘ No, no, my master. I am not so determined. 
I shall follow you. Your commands must be my 
law. If you say proceed, I am with you.” 

And how is it with Selim ?” 

^‘You have nothing to fear, my master, from him. 
The two men whom you selected to accompany you 
will not betray you. Selim thinks of this robber 
chieftain as I do ; but he is bound to his duty, and 
will perform it.” 

Judah knew the characters and dispositions of the 
two eunuchs, and he felt no uneasiness. 

‘‘My good Osmir,” he said, with a smile, “con- 
cerning this Scourge of Damascus I feel much as 


78 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


you feel. I have long known that he was a noble," 
true-hearted man. But he is an enemy of our king, 
and we have promised to capture him. Just think, 
for a moment, what must be the result if we take 
him, and convey him in safety to Damascus. Think 
what people will say of Osmir and Selim. Now 
the merchants of Damascus are in fear and trem- 
bling on account of this terrible Scourge, and the 
king sits uneasily upon his throne ; but if we arrest 
the dreaded chieftain, and deliver him up, the mer- 
chants will rejoice, and the king will be grateful. 
And upon whom shall their thanks and their honors 
fall 

This speech pleased the eunuch, and fired him up 
to new zeal in the work he had undertaken. Judah 
moved out from the cover to observe if any one was 
approaching, and when he was satisfied that be was 
still safe, he returned and gave Osmir such instruc- 
tions as he deemed necessary. He was careful that 
all should be understood, and that each projected 
movement should be so arranged that there could be 
no possible clashing. He knew the wit and temper 
of his associates, and he had no fear that they would 
disappoint him by any blunder or mistake. 

“And now,'^ said the Israelite, after his directions 
had been given, “ if we are at all favored by fortune 
we shall most surely succeed. Thus far fortune has 
been upon our side. Your position near the person 
of Julian is most favorable. Impart our arrange- 
ments carefully to Selim, and await my further 
signal.” 

The eunuch promised obedience, and the two men 


Caged. 


79 


separated, Judah going in search of his horse, while 
Osmir proceeded directly to the camp, where, having 
delivered a message to the chieftain, he sought 
Selim, and in a little while the two were in secret 
consultation. 

Towards the middle of the forenoon the robber 
train was in motion, and when it came night they 
camped in an open wood, between two hills, near to 
the road which led from Caesarea Philippi to 
Damascus ; and here they were to remain until the 
expected caravan made its appearance. 

Sometimes Julian took his tent with him when 
leading his band upon long expeditions, but on the 
present occasion he had left it behind, choosing that 
the place of his encampment should be as little 
noticeable as possible. After he had seen his sen- 
tinels all posted, and given such directions as he 
thought necessary, he sought a place of rest beneath 
a large tree, where he soon sank into a dreamy 
slumber. It must have been near midnight when 
he was aroused by some one moving near him, and 
on starting up he was addressed by Osmir : 

‘‘ My master, I have a strange message for you.’* 

The chieftain arose to a sitting posture. 

Is this Osmir ?” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“ From whom bring you a message ?” 

“ From one, my master, whom I had little ex- 
pected to see here. As I walked forth a short time 
since, a sentinel informed me that some one outside 
of the camp wished to speak with me. I went to 


8o 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


the spot designated, and there found a young bond- 
maiden of Damascus. Her name was Albia.” 

“ Albia r cried Julian, starting to his feet. “ Why, 
such was the name of the maiden who attended 
upon the princess Ulin.” 

‘‘Aye, my lord — she is the same.’' 

“What? Do you mean that the bondmaiden of 
Ulin is at our camp ?” 

“ She is.” 

“ What is her business ?” 

“ She wishes to speak with Julian.” 

“ But her business — of what does she wish to 
speak ?” 

“ She did not tell me, my lord. She would only 
say that she was the bondmaiden of Ulin, and she 
desired to see you. I knew her not ; but she seemed 
so gentle and so timid, and used your name so elo- 
quently, that I could not doubt her. I think her 
story is true. I think she is what she represents her- 
self to be.” 

“ Did she not tell you from whom she came?” 

“ No, unless her announcement that she was the 
bondmaiden of the princess Ulin may be taken in 
answer to the query.” 

“ By the lyre of Apollo, she must have come from 
her mistress,” exclaimed the chieftain, warmly. 
“ The princess may be in trouble. She may need 
stout arms to help her. Lead me to this bond- 
maiden at once.” 

“ She begged, my lord, that she might not be 
exposed.” 

“ Lead on. I will see her.” 


Caged, 


8i 


Without further remark the eunuch led the way 
from the camp, avoiding as much as possible those 
points where sentinels were posted ; and when he 
had reached the highway he stopped and asked the 
chieftain whether he should go and bring the 
maiden, or whether they should continue on. 

“ She is not far off ?’* 

Only a short distance.’' 

Then we will seek her.” 

The great road wound around the foot of the hill, 
and ere long the eunuch had reached a point so 
utterly shut off from the camp that his loudest cry 
could not have been heard by the robber sentinels. 

Is the girl here ?” asked Julian, as his sable guide 
stopped and turned. 

“ She must be very near here, my lord. I left her 
upon this very spot.” 

The chieftain heard a slight rustling behind him ; 
but, not being startled into quick action, before he 
could turn, he received a blow upon the side of the 
head that felled him to the earth. He was for the 
moment stunned, and before his reason was clear 
enough to direct his movements, he was set upon 
by three stout men, who bound his arms and legs so 
quickly that his power of resistance was gone before 
he fairly knew what opposed him. 

‘‘ Sir Robert,” spoke the Israelite, bending over 
the prostrate chieftain, you are my prisoner, and 
henceforth you are in my keeping until I deliver you 
up to my master. You cannot escape me, so do not 
trouble yourself with the attempt.” 

‘‘ You are Judah,” said the chieftain. 


82 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


“I am/’ 

And these others are the two eunuchs who pro- 
fessed to be of Aleppo T 

‘‘ Yes/’ 

And you three serve the king of Damascus ?” 

You have guessed the truth.” 

By the gods,” muttered Julian, as though com- 
muning with himself, ‘‘I should have guessed this 
before. I have been blind. I have acted like a 
child. But I am not yet quite lost. I am still 
within the — ” 

The Israelite had been watching him narrowly, 
and when he saw that the chieftain had a disposi- 
tion to call for help, he sprang upon him and stopped 
his mouth. 

^^Do not blame yourself. Sir Robber. Judah of 
Damascus has done more difficult work than this ; 
and you may take to yourself the assurance that 
when he set out upon his mission the deed was sure 
of its accomplishment. Ah, here comes Selim with 
the horses. You shall have an easy ride, and a 
quick one ; and when you are in the presence of the 
king you can plead your case as eloquently as you 
please. I have not time to listen ; nor have I the 
power to judge.” 

The Scourge of Damascus, in the full vigor of 
robust manhood, and possessed of a strength and 
daring beyond any of his stalwart followers, was 
a prisoner in the hands of three slaves — a pris- 
oner within sound of his own camp — and so surely 
a prisoner that he had no way of escape. His 
steel-wrought muscles were powerless beneath 


Caged. 


83 


the cruel bonds, and his mouth was stopped from 
the utterance of alarm. He was lifted from the 
ground by the two eunuchs, and placed upon the 
back of a powerful horse, and in a few short moments 
more he was being borne swiftly away from his 
friends and companions — away towards the city 
where dwelt his deadliest enemies. 

It was near noon, and the king of Damascus was 
in his chamber with Aboul Cassem. They were 
talking about the approaching marriage. 

“In three days more,’* said Horam, “ I shall claim 
her for my bride. Aboul Cassem, I ask you, as one 
who has had opportunity for observation, have I not 
grown young since I put away my other wives ? and 
do I not display new vigor and elasticity ?” 

“In truth, sire, it is as you have said,” replied the 
minister. He spoke not with the enthusiasm of 
appreciation, but as one who would not dispute his 
king. “ I trust, sire, your hopes may find their 
fruition. I pray that Ulin may bear to thee a son, 
and thus make bright and promising the evening 
of your life.” 

“ Good Aboul, I trust in thy words. I think I 
am strong and vigorous. Ha ! what now ? Whom 
have we here ?” 

“ Sire,” spoke a page, “ the Israelite, Judah, is 
without, and would speak with thee.” 

“ How !” cried the king. “ Is it the Judah whom 
I sent from the Valley of Lycanius ?” 

“ The same, sire.*' 


84 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


‘^Then send him to me at once. By my life^ 
Aboul, he cannot have accomplished his mission so 
soon. I dare not hope so.'' 

Let us hope for the best," suggested the minister; 
and before further remark could be made, Judah 
stood in the royal presence. 

‘‘Ha, Judah, — do I see thee back so soon? .Have 
you come to bring me word of failure ?" 

“ Nay, sire," replied the Israelite, “ I have come to 
bring the robber chieftain to Damascus." 

‘‘ Have you taken him ?" 

“ Yes, sire." 

“ Alive ?" 

“Yes, sire." 

“ And have him here ?" 

“ Ready to be brought before you at any time." 

“ He is bound ?" 

“ Yes, sire." 

“ Then bring him at once. By the host of Pluto, 
I would see the fellow. But — hold. He is 
guarded ?" 

“Yes, sire. Osmir and Selim are with him." 

“ Are they all ?" 

“It needs no more. The prisoner is securely 
bound, and can offer no resistance." 

“ Then let him come ; but bring the eunuchs with 
him." 

“Ye gods!" uttered Horam, turning to his 
minister, after Judah had gone, “ what manner of 
man shall we behold ?" 

“ I cannot guess, sire." 

“A giant, I think — as ugly as a C3mlop. But he 


Caged. 


85 


is bound, Aboul — he is bound ; and the two stout 
eunuchs will guard him.’^ 

In a little while the door was opened, and Judah 
entered, followed by Osmir and Selim, who led a 
bound man between them. 

Sire,*' spoke the Israelite, ‘‘this is the prisoner.” 

“ But where is Julian?” demanded Horam. 

“ This is Julian.” 

“jy/A cried the monarch, taking a step forward, 
and gazing into the face of the bound man before 
him. ^^This?'' he repeated, in a lower tone, advanc- 
ing another step, and gazing more earnestly upon 
the bold, open, youthful face. “ This is not Julian.” 

“ This is he who hath commanded the robber 
band,’* said Judah. 

“ Aye — and I am he whom you have called the 
Scourge of Damascus,” spoke the prisoner, standing 
proudly erect, and gazing full into the face of the 
king. “ I am Julian, the enemy of Horam, and the 
avenger of wrongs done years ago.” 

The monarch, as he gazed more intently upon 
those features, and as the tones of that voice fell 
upon his ear, seemed startled by the memory of 
some old dream. And Aboul Cassem was not 
entirely uninterested. The old minister gazed as 
fixedly and as earnestly upon the face of the young 
chieftain as did his royal master ; and he, too, 
seemed puzzled and perplexed. 

“ Who are you ?” asked Horam. 

“I am Julian, the Scourge.” 

“ But what else ?” 


86 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


You should know what else, most mighty king. 
I have tried to make myself felt by you.'’ 

“But,” urged Horam, taking no notice of the inso- 
lence of the robber’s tone, “ why have you sought to 
harm me ? Who are you that can have cause for 
such enmity ?” 

“ I am one who knows the bitterness of deepest 
wrong,” replied Julian. “ Fatherless and motherless 
came I from the feeble steps of childhood ; and I 
know that Horam was the murderer of my parents.” 

“ Ha !” cried the king, with a start. “ Who were 
your parents V 

“ I will not speak their names in your presence.” 

“ Beware, robber ! I may compel you to answer.” 

“ If you have power to extract answers from dead 
men, you may force answers from me.” 

“ By the gods, thou art insolent.” 

“ Then bind my tongue, as these slaves have 
bound my arms.” 

“ No,” said Horam. struggling with his passion ; 
“ I have another plan. The secret which you will 
not speak to me you shall never speak. You shall 
follow your parents with all possible speed. 
Judah !” 

“ I am here, sire.” 

“You know the deepest, darkest dungeon, where 
the most dreaded prisoners are confined ?” 

“ Yes, sire.” 

“ Conduct this man thither. Plunge him into the 
very bowels of the deepest cavern, where the doors 
are of iron, and the bolts of triple steel, and see that 
he is kept safely there. To you and these two faith- 


Caged. 


87 


ful eunuchs I give him in charge until the morrow. 
You will answer for him with your life.'' 

Once more the king gazed into that youthful face, 
and then turned away to a window, 

‘‘Sire," spoke the minister, after the prisoner had 
been conducted away, “why do you spare that man 
for even another hour? Why do you not execute 
him at once ?" 

“ Because," replied Horam, starting up, “ I have a 
curiosity to know who he is. There is some mystery 
in that face of his. It is now near the hour of the 
council, and I have not time to think. I must see 
him again. Did you not mark something peculiar in 
his look ?'' 

“Yes, sire. There is something in his face which 
is familiar to me ; or, at least, it seems so." 

“ By my life, Aboul, it must be so. Did you mark 
that bold front ; that open brow ; that Jove-like 
sweep of nose and chin ? and did you mark the deep, 
lustrous eyes, and the gentle curling of that sunny 
hair ?" 

“ Yes, sire." 

“ And can you not read its secret ?" 

“ No. Can your majesty ?" 

“ Not yet — not yet, Aboul ; but I must. I have a 
strange curiosity ; and it is a curiosity which has 
been strangely and suddenly excited." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

HOBADDAN. 

Ulin had lost none of her wondrous beauty ; but 
she had become pale, and the healthy flash of the 
eye was gone. Late in the evening she sat in her 
chamber, with her brow resting upon her hand, and 
ever and anon a deep sigh escaped her. 

My dear, good mistress,” spoke Albia, gliding to 
the side of the princess, and resting her hand 
affectionately upon her arm, I cannot bear to see 
you suffer so. Whatis it ?” 

“ It is nothing, Albia.” Ulin spoke without rais- 
ing her head, and her voice was low and sad. 

Don’t tell me that,” urged the attendant. She 
got down upon her knees, and gazed earnestly up 
into Ulin’s face. O, my dear lady, you are 
miserable and unhappy. Why will you not pour out 
your sorrows to me ? Perhaps I can help you bear 
them. You know I love you ; you know that I will 
be faithful. Tell me all, and I will suffer with you 
if I can ; and I will help you if there is help to be 
had. As I live at this moment, so, if it should- 



Hobaddan. 


89 


appear to me necessary, would I lay down my life 
for your welfare, Will you not trust me T 

Ulin leaned her head forward upon Albia’s 
shoulder, and burst into tears. 

O, Albia, you are my friend — you are my sister. 
I know you love me ; and I cannot tell you how 
grateful I am.’' 

“Then why will you not lift the veil from your 
sorrow, and allow me to feel still more for you ?” 

“ I had almost resolved to tell you, Albia." 

“ Then make the resolution sure, and admit me to 
your fullest confidence." 

The princess dried her eyes, and finally lifted her 
head from her companion’s shoulder. 

“Dear Albia, I know not how to commence. I am 
a child — a poor, foolish child — as you will say when 
I have told you all. You will say that I deserve to 
suffer, and that punishment should be mine." 

“ Nay, my lady," responded the bondmaiden ; 
“ you must not commence in that way. Tell me first 
all the cause of your sorrow ; and leave it for me to 
base my own judgment. Come — trust me, and let 
me give you all my sympathy." 

A few moments the princess was silent, and then 
she said, with a low tremor in her voice : 

“ Dear Albia, when I said that I would marry with 
the king I did not think what I was doing. That 
strange dream, so wonderfully repeated, led my 
father to broach the subject, and I did not refuse. 
When he talked of my being queen, and of my giving 
birth to a king of Damascus, I thought it might be 
my duty to offer myself. I did not then know Horam. 


go The Scourge of Damascus. 


But — now — I have learned new things. I dread the 
fate which I have courted. I fear and loathe the 
man whose wife I have promised to become. When - 
I first promised to give myself to Horam I felt that I 
could perform the duty without the sacrifice of any 
real virtue or comfort of life. But, O, how changed 
it has all become. Not only does my whole nature 
shrink from the sacrifice, but it seems as though a 
fate worse than death were involved in the ordeal. 
Last night I dreamed that Horam was my husband, 
and that he meant to kill me. He did not plan to 
drown me, as he did poor Helena ; but he declared 
that I should be thrown alive into a den of wild 
beasts. It makes you shudder, Albia.'' 

“ O — how terrible !’' 

‘‘ And yet, my dear girl, I dreamed that I felt a 
relief when I knew that death was coming, even 
though it was to come so dreadfully. Just think 
what a state of mind that must be. O, it is horrible ! 
Dear Albia, I know not what to do.’' 

‘‘ Have you told me all ?” whispered the bond- 
maiden, winding her arm about her mistress’s neck, 
and kissing her upon the brow. 

‘‘ Have I not told you enough ?” returned Ulin, 
covering her face with her hands. 

Not if there is more to tell, dear lady. You have 
trusted me this far — trust me with all. You have 
told me that you dread the king ; and I do not won- 
der at it. You have told me that marriage with him 
seemed to you more terrible than death ; and I can- 
not wonder at this. You cannot have forgotten that 
I spoke against the union from the first. It seemed 


Hobaddan, 


9 ^ 


to me unnatural. But, lady, there is something 
more.” 

“Nothing more which I dare to tell, Albia. Nay 
— do not ask me. I have told you all that I can tell. 
And now I ask you — what can I do ? The fatal hour 
is nigh at hand in the which I have promised to give 
myself to the king.” 

“ There is one thing you can do, my mistress, — one 
thing alone, which I can see.” 

“ Speak, Albia.” 

“ You can flee.” 

'‘'‘.Flee repeated Ulin, in a startled whisper. 

“There is but one other course open to you.” 

“ And that — ” 

“ Marriage with the king.” 

“ Oh, Albia, this is dreadful ! That same thought 
of flight has entered my mind before ; but can I 
leave my father?” 

you become the king’s wife you must leave 
him. Think of it, my lady.” 

“ But whither can I flee ?” 

“ I have thought of that,” said the bondmaiden, 
“ and I think I know where you could find safety. 
Some miles from Damascus, among the hills where 
the Pharphar winds its water in a murmuring chan- 
nel, lives an old hermit, named Ben Hadad. His 
home is in a cave which the hand of nature has 
fashioned in the solid rock ; and his life is given to 
deeds of charity and good will. I have seen him, 
and I know that he is good and kind.” 

“ And how came you to know this old man ?” 
asked the princess, with some surprise. 


92 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


I know him through an old woman named 
Ezabel, who has been often in the city, and who was 
well acquainted with your mother. This Ezabel 
used to come often to our house, and once Ben 
Hadad came with her — a white-haired old man, 
whose just and temperate life is lengthening out far 
beyond the span of years usually allotted to man. 
Your mother gave him money to be expended in 
charity ; and he told her, if she ever could find use 
for his aid, it should be freely given. I know that 
he will befriend you. If you wish to flee, I will go 
with you, and to the last of my strength and my life 
I will help and sustain you. Think of it, my mis- 
tress.” 

‘‘I will think of it, Albia, and on the morrow my 
mind shall be made up. You may retire now. It 
is late, and we both need rest.” 

When the princess was alone she trembled 
beneath the weight of the new thought that had 
been wrought upon her. Flight was something that 
had not made its way to her mind before, but now 
that it had been presented, she could not dismiss it. 
She had revealed her whole feeling, so far as the 
king was concerned, in her speech to Albia. There 
may have been other springs within her soul which 
she did not then dare to touch ; but in her own soul, 
unsupported and uninfluenced by other causes than 
such as spring from reason and reflection, had 
grown a fear of Horam, and a terror of being his 
wife. She had dreamed of poor Helena until the 
dead queen seemed almost an attendant spirit upon 
her, sent to warn her from the bed of the king. The 


Hobaddan. 


93 


night passed, and the day came ; and she had 
resolved that she would not marry with the old 
king if she could avoid it. When Albia came, and 
asked her what she had determined, such was the 
purport of her answer. 

“But,’' said the bondmaiden, “there is but one 
way in which the sacrifice can be avoided. Are you 
ready to flee ?’’ 

“ Not yet — not yet, Albia. Wait through the 
day." 

In the afternoon the king made a visit to the 
house of his prime minister and spent a short time 
with Ulin. He never looked more repulsive, nor 
had he ever before shown such passion in his gloat- 
ing admiration of the beautiful maiden whose fresh- 
ness he hoped soon to possess. He was loud in his 
words of love, and made the announcement that 
fortune had turned full in his favor. It was evident 
enough that he had been taking more wine than 
usual. When he went away, Ulin sank down upon a 
low stool, and buried her face in her hands. 

“ Albia,” she said, when she felt like speaking, “ I 
can bear no more. I would rather die than give 
myself to that man. If I should die, my father 
would lose me ; but if I flee from Damascus, I may 
at some time return to him. If you can prepare for 
leaving the city, I will accompany you this very 
night.” 

The bondmaiden promised that she would do all 
in her power ; and without waiting to waste time in 
useless words, she went forth to search for the help 
^he needed. 


94 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


Evening came, and Ulin had not shrunk back 
from the decision she had made. There were two 
reasons why her home had not power to win her 
back from her resolve. The death of her mother 
had taken away the brightest part of that home ; 
and, furthermore, its character of home was soon to 
be changed if she remained. It could not be her 
home any more. 

Thus sat the princess, presenting herself with 
every available reason that could favor her in her 
resolution, when Albia came in, with a quick step 
and a flushed cheek. 

‘‘My mistress,” she said, when she had assured 
herself that they were alone, “ there is a man in the 
garden who wishes to speak with you.” 

“ A man !” cried Ulin. 

“ He says it is a case of life or death — of life or 
death to an individual, and of life or death to a 
city,” pursued the bondmaiden, without noticing 
the interruption. “ He gained entrance to the 
garden, and has been searching for the lady Ulin. 
He did not tell me his name ; but I know that he 
was with the robbers at the Palace of the Valley, 
and he says he is a friend of Julian. If you will see 
him now, I can conduct him up without danger of 
discovery.” 

“In mercy’s name, Albia, what mean you ?” The 
princess trembled like an aspen. “What can he 
want with me ?’’ 

“ I think he is an honest man, my lady ; and I 
think you had better see him. I can only speak my 
own feelings.” 


Hobaddan. 


-95 


“Does he say that Julian sent him?'’ asked 
Ulin, trembling more violently as that name fell 
from her lips. 

“Julian did not send him," replied Albia’; 
“and yet he comes in behalf of Julian. I think 
the noble young chieftain is in danger, and this 
man hopes that you may be able to render some 
assistance." 

“ Indeed, Albia, I must not do such a thing. It 
would not be proper. I must not do it. What is 
the robber chieftain to me ?" 

“ I know not of a verity, my lady, that such is the 
man’s hope ; but I do know that he prays most 
earnestly to see you. Yet, if you will not see him, I 
will carry to him your word." 

“ What will he do if I refuse ?" 

“ He will go away, and trouble you no more." 

“Are you sure of this, Albia T 

“ I am, my lady. He bade me say unto you that 
you should act your own pleasure. He urges no 
claim, and will take no offence at refusal, but he 
prayerfully asks that you will grant him audience." 

The princess was not proof against the spirit 
which prompted to the reception of the robber. It 
was not wholly curiosity which moved her. 
There were feelings working within her which she 
could not have explained, even to herself. She 
told Albia that she might conduct the man to her 
apartment. 

“You will come with him, Albia ; and you will 
remain with me while he is here." 

The bondmaiden went away, and ere long 


96 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


returned, followed by a tall, stout, middle-aged 
man. As the rays of the lamp fell upon his face, 
revealing features that were far above the average 
in their stamp of manhood, Ulin recognized him as 
one whom she had seen with Julian in the Valley 
of Lycanius. He bowed very low as he entered, 
and when he saw how the maiden was affected by 
his presence, he proceeded at once to open his 
business. 

Noble lady,” he said, in a tone which might at 
once have banished all fear from the minds of his 
listeners, I have come to you upon a most strange 
business, and I will use ^as few words as possible 
in presenting it to you. My young master is in 
danger.” 

•^Do you speak of Julian ?” asked the princess, with 
a slight start. 

“Yes, my lady,” replied the man, standing 
respectfully before her, with his cap in his hand. 

“My name is Hobaddan, and I am Julian’s lieu- 
tenant. I have been with him from the period of 
his earliest childhood. Since he was large enough 
to lift a lance, I have bee*n his friend and companion. 
He was given into my care during his opening 
youth ; and when he reached the estate of manhood 
I was content to serve him. I love him as a brother 
— aye, better than most brothers love. I love him 
tenderly and devotedly. And all his followers love 
him. A thousand stout men love and worship him.” 

What did all this mean ? Why had Hobaddan 
come to tell her this ? Ulin trembled, knowing not 


Hobaddan, 


97 


wherefore, and gazed anxiously into the speaker’s 
face. 

Lady,” pursued the lieutenant, who had stopped 
a moment^ as though he would assure himself that 
his language gave no offence, my master is in 
danger. He is in the hands of his deadliest enemy. 
He is in this city — cast into a dark, deep dungeon, 
and Horam means to kill him !” 

Ulin turned pale as death, and clasped her hands 
upon her bosom. Her look signified that she would 
ask how it had happened. 

‘‘ I will explain,” continued Hobaddan, “how this 
misfortune befell my chieftain. Have vou ever seen 
an Israelite named Judah ?” 

“ i know him well,'’ said Albia. “ He is the king’s 
slave.'^ 

“ And two black eunuchs, named Osmir and 
Selim ?” 

“ I know them also,” answered the bond-maiden. 

‘ They came to our camp,” said Hobaddan, “and 
told so fair a story that they were admitted to fellow- 
ship, and the eunuchs were placed as servants near 
the person of our chieftain. But the result proved 
that they were sent out by Horam, and that their 
mission was to capture the Scourge of Damascus. 
And this work they have accomplished. How they 
did it I cannot tell. I only know that we missed 
our leader, and that the three conspiritors were miss- 
ing with him. I came at once to this city, and have 
succeeded in discovering what I have told you. 
Julian is in prison, and of course the fate of death 
awaits him.’ 


98 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


‘‘But sir,” said Ulin, struggling to speak calmly, 
“ what can this be to me ?” 

“ Noble lady, I know that the thought of seeking 
you was a wild one ; and perhaps you will say it 
was monstrous ; but I could think of no other 
course. I knew that your father was prime minister ; 
and that you were in a position to wield some 
influence. There is not an officer in Damascus to 
whom I would dare to apply. Is there not some 
way in which you can help me ?” 

“How, sir ? Help you in what ?” 

“ In setting my young master free.” 

“ Indeed, sir, you have taken a step most wild. 
How should I, the daughter of Aboul Cassem, dare 
to step in between justice and its victim ?” 

“Ah, lady,” returned the lieutenant, “some of us 
think that others higher than Julian, owe more to 
justice than does he.” 

“Still, sir,” pursued Ulin, “it is most absurd to 
think that I could help you in this.” 

Did Ulin appear like one offended ? No. Did she 
treat the name of Julian as though she deemed him 
worthy of the fate which threatened him ? No. She 
seemed rather to be struggling to put away some 
feeling of a very different character. The lieutenant 
evidently read her nature, for he proceeded earn- 
estly : 

“ Do not misunderstand me, lady. Were the work 
simply to set Julian free, I should not have visited 
you. The work I would give into your hands is the 
salvation of Damascus. If our master is slain by the 
king, this city must suffer most terribly. The ven- 


Hobaddan, 


99 


geance of those who love the chieftain will be dread- 
ful. If Julian falls beneath the sword of the king's 
executioner, his followers will draw more blood from 
the life of this people than Polypses drew when he 
ravaged the city of the northern plain. To save 
all this, noble princess, can you not help me ? Is 
there not some way in which you can remove the 
bolt from the door of the chieftain's prison-house ?" 
Ulin was trembling more violently than before. 

O, sir," she cried, giving full scope now to her 
feelings, “ you find me powerless to help you. I 
have not the influence which you ascribe to me. If 
I had the power, I would not hesitate. If I were the 
jailer, and held the keys of the prison door, I would 
set your master free ; but, alas ! I am more weak 
than you imagine. I am more like a prisoner than 
like a princess !" 

At this juncture the bondmaiden arose from her 
seat and moved forward. Her dark eyes sparkled 
with peculiar fire, and her fair brow worked as 
though the brain were revolving mighty thoughts. 

Dear lady," she said, addressing her mistress, 
there is but one way in which we can render the 
assurance which this man seeks." 

Speak, Albia," said Ulin, betraying a suddenness 
of emotion which told very plainly how her desires 
ran. 

Not now, my mistress," returned the girl. “ I 
must have time. If this man can come to our gar- 
den two hours past midnight, I can tell him more." 

‘‘ Is there help !" asked Hobaddan, eagerly. 

“ I cannot tell you now," replied Albia. I can 


lOO 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


only tell you this ! If there is help, it is to be found 
only in one quarter. I will look for it there ; and, at 
the time I have mentioned, you shall know the result. 
I will look for it if my lady is willing.” 

“ I will trust you, Albia,'’ said the princess. 

“ And I am pardoned for my intrusion ?” said 
Hobaddan. 

‘‘Yes,” returned Ulin. She would have said more, 
but Albia was already at the door, and the robber 
had turned to follow her. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE DARK HOUR. 

“ It seemed like a dream to Ulin. She closed her 
eyes — and opened them — and arose — and walked 
across the chamber — simply to assure herself that 
she was awake. Was it possible that a member of 
the robber band had been to see her — had been 
within her chamber — had come, and had gone ? A 
friend and companion of Julian’s, seeking her for aid 
in behalf of the chieftain } She was trying to make 
it appear real, when her bondmaiden returned. 

The door was closed, and Albia remarked, as she 
took a seat : 

“ He will be in the garden two hours past mid- 


The Dark Hour. 


lOI 


night, my lady ° and if we can help him, we must do 
our work as speedily as possible.’’ 

‘‘ Help,” repeated Ulin, gazing into her attendant’s 
face. How can we help Julian ?” 

The thing may be possible,” replied Albia, in a 
thoughtful mood. “ If you would serve him, I think 
a way can be opened to the accomplishment.” 

The princess reflected a few moments, and then 
said : 

If the man who was here spoke the truth, it may 
become my duty to help him ; and certainly his 
story seemed plausible. I can very easily see how 
the powerful robber band, moved to desperation by 
the death of their beloved leader, might wreak most 
terrible vengeance upon this city ; and surely, if we 
can be the means of averting so dire a calamity, it is 
our duty so to do.” 

think it is,” added Albia. 

‘‘But,” continued Ulin, “if Julian is in the power 
of the king, he must be in one of the strongest dun- 
geons ; and a strict guard must be kept over him. 
How can we reach him ?” 

“I can think of but one way,” returned the bond- 
maiden, laying down the plan with her finger as she 
proceeded. “ The two eunuchs, Osmir and Selim, 
had a hand in capturing the young chieftain ; and it 
is not impossible that they may have a hand in guard- 
ing him. I judge so from the fact that the capture 
of the robber has not yet become generally known in 
the city, which would certainly have been the case if 
the king’s officers had known it. Now we have some 
claim upon the gratitude of this Osmir, and I think 


102 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


he is, by nature, grateful enough to repay us. He is 
the man whom we found faint and dying upon the 
shore of the lake, and who must have died if we had 
not nursed him. You remember the circumstance ?’' 

remember, a year ago, when my mother was 
with me, that we found a poor eunuch in suffering,’' 
said the princess. ‘‘ I think he had been beaten by 
his companions.” 

“ He had been almost killed by some slaves of 
Aleppo,” explained Albia. 

‘‘ I remember,” pursued Ulin. “ It all comes to me 
now. I bathed his bruised head, and bound up his 
wounds, while you brought the cordial which my 
mother provided.” 

So it was, my lady. I have seen the slave since 
— have seen him several times — he has brought mes- 
sages to your father — and I know that his gratitude 
is strong. If Osmir has any power to open the prison 
door, and I can find him, there may be some hope.” 

‘‘ But can you find him V asked the princess. She 
spoke eagerly, and no longer sought to conceal the 
real cause of her anxiety. 

I can try,” returned the attendent ; ‘‘and even 
here we have a fortunate help. Shubal, the eunuch 
who has been so long your servant, is a near friend 
to Osmir. I will take Shubal with me, and we may 
find the man we seek. Shall I not leave at once ?” 

“ Yes, x\lbia. Go at once. Be careful, for all 
may depend on the secresy of your movements. I 
have entered upon this matter, and I will now give 
all my energies to its consummation. Go — and 
bring me answer as quickly as you can.’* 


The Dark Hour, 


103 


The £}ondmaiden left the apartment, and when 
Ulin was once more alone, she started to her feet, 
and moved to the window. The flush was back 
upon her cheek, and the sparkle was in her eye. Her 
pure blood was circulating with new power, as, for 
the time, she forgot the king in the memory of the 
youthful chieftain. 

In less than an hour Albia returned, and the beam 
upon her face told very plainly that she had not 
been entirely disappointed. 

<< My good mistress,'' she said, “ Shubal has served 
us well. I found him without difficulty, and he at 
once went alone in search of Osmir. He found him 
at the royal palace, and has brought him hither." 

‘‘ Brought Osmir ?" 

Yes." 

“ And what does he say ?" 

I have not spoken to him of Julian. I thought 
you had better do that. You may have more influ- 
enceo" 

Very well — -bring him up at once. I will shrink 
from nothing now." 

In a little while the tall, dark form of the king’s 
eunuch glided within the chamber of the princess. 
He bowed low as he entered, and when he saw the 
lady Ulin, he sank down upon his knee. 

“ Noble lady," he said, Albia informed me that I 
can be of service to you. Once you served me, and 
my life has been yours ever since. Command me." 

At first Ulin had been startled by the appearance 
of the powerful black within her chamber ; but when 
she remembered the service she had done him, and 


104 Scourge of Damascus, 


when she saw how gently the beams of gratitude fell 
upon her from his brown eyes, she regained her con- 
fidence. 

“I will not command you, Osmir ; I can only ask 
you to assist me. You may be able to serve me, and 
you may not be able. But I will not detain you 
with useless words. You do not yet know what I 
seek 

I do not, lady.’* 

“You helped to bring the robber chieftain to 
Damascus.” 

“ Ha — who told you that ?” The eunuch was not 
startled with fear ; but he rather seemed to wonder 
how the princess had gained the information. 

“Do you know a man named Hobaddan ?” 

“Yes, lady. He is second in command of the 
robber band.” 

“ He has been here, Osmir, and he has induced 
me to use my influence towards gaining freedom 
for his chieftain. I may not explain to you, but 
nevertheless I am willing to confess that I do much 
desire to free this Julian from the power of the 
king. Can you help me ?” 

The eunuch bowed his head, and pretty soon arose 
to his feet. 

“ Lady,” he said, “ I did help in the capture of the 
young chieftain ; but when I came to know him I 
would rather have served him had it been in my 
power. I found him a generous, honorable man 
and I learned to love him; but I was bound by an 
oath to the will of Judah, and I could not disobey. 
I wish I could save him now.” 


The Dark Hour, 


105 


‘‘Can you not do it, Osmir ? I do not wish that 
the king should kill him. We thought you might 
have access to his dungeon — that you might, at some 
time, be set to guard him.'' 

“ So it is, lady ; but I am not to be on the guard 
again until daylight." 

“ And to-morrow may be the last !" uttered the 
princess, painfully. “ If you cannot help us our hope 
has an end." 

Osmir moved back and leaned against the wall, 
with his head upon his hand. 

“ Lady," he said, after much thought, “ I have one 
source of hope. My companion, Selim — he who was 
with me in the work of capture — stands watch over 
the chieftain's dungeon at midnight. Selim may 
help me. If he will, Julian may be saved, I will 
hasten away at once, and exert this only influence I 
possess." 

“ And when can I know the result ?" asked Ulin. 

‘^‘Within two hours past midnight," said Osmir. 
“ That is," he added, “ if I have any result to bring. 
If I do not succeed, I may not return at all." 

“At two hours past midnight," pursued Ulin, 
“ Hobaddan is to be in my garden. You can meet 
him there.'' 

“Yes," returned the eunucii, after a moment’s 
reflection, “ if I succeed, I shall not fear to meet the 
lieutenant. If I am not in the garden at the time 
appointed, or very near that time, you may know 
that I have done all that lay in my power. Have 
you more to say ?" 


to6 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


No, good Osmir. Go to the work, and do the 
best you can.” 

The eunuch spoke a simple word of promise, and 
then turned from the apartment, Albia conducting 
him down, and guiding him out by a small door in 
the garden wall. 

Albia,” he said, as he stood beneath the low arch 
— and his tone showed that he did not speak lightly — 
^^your mistress does not dream of the danger I must 
undergo in this work ; but I will be true to my 
promise, I will do all I can. If Selim will not join 
me, there is the end ; but if he falls in with me, then 
we both put our lives at stake, and the prize may 
be won. I hope we shall succeed.” 

The bondmaiden watched the retreating form of 
the eunuch until it was lost in the darkness, and 
then she closed the gate, and turned her steps back 
towards the house. 

The robber chieftain had been placed in one of the 
most gloomy dungeons beneath the royal palace, his 
legs and* arms loaded with chains, and his feet 
shackled to a bolt in the floor. How long he had 
been there he could not tell. Night and day were 
the same in the living tomb. Food and drink had 
been brought to him thrice, and a masked mute had 
been in to remove the tray. He had but one hope 
of escape, and even that was so feeble that it would 
not bear the entertainment. He thought if his fol- 
lowers should discover where he was, they might 
possibly dare to attempt his release ; but when he 


The Dark Hour. 


107 


came to weigh all the circumstances, he dared not 
think they would do it. In short, Julian had made 
up his mind that death was very near to him. 

And what had he to live for ? What, but revenge 
upon the King of Damascus ? He had no parents — 
no relatives — nothing on earth of his own blood 
which he could claim. There might be living in the' 
city some human being of his kin ; but he did not 
know of such. He loved his brave fellows ; but they 
could do without him. They were bold, stout men, 
and could look out for themselves. What else was 
there ? There were some poor families in the 
mountains — some friends upon the plain — and a few 
dependent ones near the river ; but Hobaddan 
would care for them. What else was there ? 

The youthful chieftain bowed his head, and 
pressed his heavily laden hands upon his heart. 
There was one more — one whom he had hoped to 
see again in the coming time — one who had left an 
impression in his soul which had warmed and quick- 
ened his whole being. But why think of her ? What 
could the beautiful daughter of Aboul Cassem be to 
him ? In a few short days she would be the wife of 
his bitterest enemy. 

Thus mused the prisoner, standing erect, with his 
manacled hands folded upon his bosom, when he was 
aroused from his reflections by the sound of creak- 
ing bolts, and in a few moments more the door of 
his dungeon was opened, and the rays of a lamp 
penetrated the place. Two men entered, closing the 
door after them ; but the eyes of the chieftain were 
not yet used enough to the light to distinguish either 


io8 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


their forms or features. Presently, however, as they 
addressed each other, he recognized the two eunuchs 
who had so fatally deceived him, and his first 
impulse was to raise his heavy chains and smite them 
down ; but they were, not near enough to be thus 
reached. 

‘‘ Osmir — Selim,” he said, are you here 
Yes, my master,” replied Osmir. 

“ Have you come to kill me T 
No.” 

To bear me to the king ?” 

“No.’* 

“ What, then ? You have the watch over me ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ And the king fears not to trust you ?” 

“ You see he does trust us.” 

“ Aye — as I trusted you. O, you are two ungrate- 
ful villains. When you came to me in the forest, I 
believed your tale of woe, and took pity upon you ; 
and I meant to be kind to you, and make your lot a 
pleasant one. I looked into your faces, and I 
thought you were honest. I did not trust you from 
your speech, but from your honest looks. However, 
it is past. And now what seek ye ?” 

“ Good master,” said Osmir, speaking earnestly, 
“ before I tell you why we are now here, let me say 
to you that we are not without hearts, and that we 
have some store of honesty. When we went to your 
camp, we went in the service of another master, 
whom we were bound to serve. We had sworn that we 
would capture you if we could. But, sir^ after we 
had seen you, and known you, we would have 


The Dark Hour, 


109 


recanted had the thing been possible. We asked 
Judah to free us from the task, but he refused.** 

‘‘Why do you tell me this story now ?’* 

“ That you may know the reason of our action.*’ 

“Your action speaks for itself. Look at these 
chains ; and mark the fate to which I am doomed.” 

“ I meant not the action of the past, good master ; 
I alluded to action that was to come.** 

“ Action to come ?’* 

“Yes. Selim and I are here to speak of your 
release from this dungeon. Hold — let our words be 
few, for the time is short. We have promised that 
we would lead you forth from Horam’s power if the 
thing were possible.” 

“ Promised whom ?” asked Julian. 

The eunuch hesitated. He knew not that he 
should use the name of the princess, so he finally 
answered : 

“ Hobaddan is in the city, and our promise has 
been sent to him. But — there is something more. 
If we lead you from this place, we do so in the face 
of great danger. We have planned for that, and 
have freely staked our lives in the work. But, if we 
succeed, and you are free, we can never more return 
to Damascus. If we go with you from this dun- 
geon, we must go with you from the city, and 
remain with you.” 

Julian believed that the eunuch was speaking truly 
and honestly. 

“Certainly,” he said, “if you lead me in safety 
from the bonds that now encompass me, I will give 
you such return as you may desire. You may 


no The Scourge of Damascus. 


remain with me, if you like, or I will give you safe 
conduct into the land of the Syrians.*' 

“Your word is enough, my master ; and hence- 
forth Selim and I are your servants. We change 
our allegiance, and the proof of our fidelity shall be 
manifest in this first act of our service. We have 
dangers to meet, sir.” 

“Talk not of dangers,” cried the chieftain. 
“ Throw off these chains ; give me a sword ; and 
lead me to the upper world ; and I ask no more. 
Once again I trust you, and if you prove true, my 
gratitude shall be yours while I live.” 

Without further words Osmir proceeded to the 
work he had come to perform. Selim held the lan- 
tern, while he loosed the irons from Julian's limbs ; 
and very soon the chieftain stepped forth with his 
limbs free. 

“There is no time to waste,” said Osmir, as he 
cast the chains upon the floor. “ We have good 
swords at hand, and for the rest we must trust to 
our wit and strength. There is danger enough 
between this dungeon and the open air ; but I am 
ready to meet it.” 

“By the gods,” cried Julian, as he grasped the 
sword which Osmir had placed in his hand. “ I can 
laugh at danger now. Lead on, and let this present 
hour be the last of Horam's power !” 



CHAPTER X. 

A ROYAL DISGUISE. 

Carefully the three men emerged from the dun- 
geon ; and when Osmir had closed and bolted the 
door behind them, Selim went on ahead with the 
lantern. They were armed with good stout swords, 
and the eunuchs wore daggers in their sashes. 

In what direction must we pass out ?’* asked 
Julian, as they came to the end of the first vaulted 
passage. 

“ We must pass up where a guard is always kept,’' 
answered Osmir; “and our only hope is that we 
may be able to fall upon the sentinels, and over- 
come them, without creating disturbance enough 
for a general alarm." 

“ Whatever can be accomplished by strength of 
arm, we will accomplish," said the robber ; “ and I 
think we can be shrewd enough not to strike until 
we see that the blow shall fall surely." 

“ You can depend upon us," added Osmir, stopping 
while Selim opened a door. “ We have already 
placed our lives in jeopardy, and only a successful 


I 12 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


exit from the palace can now save us. But, as I 
told you before, there is danger in the way.*’ 

You have counted the chances ?” 

Yes.” 

And are you ready to abide the result ?” 

Yes.” 

“ Then let us meet the worst. If you, to set me 
free, are ready for the risk, I should be much more 
so.” 

At this juncture Selim, who had opened a door, 
and gone on a few steps in advance, came hurriedly 
back, with a look of alarm in his face. 

I hear footsteps in the passage overhead,” he 
said, in a whisper. 

“ Are you sure ?’' 

“ Yes. I heard them very plainly.” 

What is the passage of which you speak V' 
asked Julian. 

“ It is one through which we must pass,” replied 
Osmir, ** and one in which we had expected to find 
no obstacle.” 

“ It may be,” suggested Selim, that a new guard 
has been set there.” 

‘‘That cannot be,” asserted Osmir. “I came 
through there only a short time since, and the place 
was empty. Hark — I hear the steps from here — and 
I think they are coming this way. Hold, a moment. 
Remain where you are, and I will find what this 
means.” 

Thus speaking, Osmir glided away into the dark- 
ness, towards the point where the stairs led down 
from the upper passage. After an absence of a few 


A Royal Disguise. 


113 


minutes he returned, and his first exclamation told 
that he was excited. 

The king is coming 

The king !’' repeated Julian, in a quick, deep 
whisper. 

Yes — and two of his eunuchs are with him. 
Some one else came as far as the head of the^tairs 
with them, but I think only the king and the eunuchs 
are descending ; or else the eunuchs are left behind, 
and Horam takes other company to this passage.” 

‘^He must be coming to see me,” said Julian, 

*‘It must be so,” answered Osmir ; for there is 
nothing else here for him to see, save bare damp 
walls and toads.” 

Hark ! Here they come. I hear their voices, 
and can see where the rays of their lantern breaks in 
the gloom.” It was Selim who said this, and as he 
spoke he drew back, and hid his own lantern beneath 
the skirt of his tunic. 

Our adventurers, from where they stood, could see 
the foot of the steps at the far end of the passage ; 
and presently they saw two men descend, the fore- 
most one bearing a lantern, and wearing the robes 
of the king, while the other seemed to be an officer 
of the household. 

“ I see now,” said Osmir, as he gained a view of 
the approaching men. I was mistaken. The 
eunuchs have been left behind, and this is Benoni, 
one of the captains of the guard, who comes with 
the king.” 

The robber chieftain was for a moment undecided 
as to the course he should pursue. Once his sword 


1 14 The Scourge of Damascus. 


was half drawn from its scabbard ; but Osmir, who 
heard the movement, seemed to have a better idea. 

** My master,** he whispered, touching Julian upon 
the arm, let us draw back out of sight, and allow 
them to pass. They will certainly keep on to the 
dungeon we have left, and we will follow them 
thither.** 

“ You are right,’* replied the chieftain. They 
will be completely in our power when they have 
passed us.” 

Just back of where our trio stood was the door by 
which they had last passed, and upon one side was 
a deep niche in the wall, which had evidently been 
constructed for the reception of rubbish. Into this 
they quickly glided, Selim so effectually cloaking his 
lantern that not a ray of light escaped. In a little 
while the king came near to the hiding place, with 
his lantern held carefully before him, and his head 
bowed, as though he was fearful that he might make 
a misstep. He walked slowly, and his frame shook 
with a perceptible tremor. When he reached the 
door he stopped, and turned towards his companions. 

‘‘ Benoni,” he said, I think you may remain here. 
This is the last passage, and I will go the rest of the 
way alone.** 

I had better accompany you to the end, sire.** 

No — I prefer to go alone.** 

But,” urged the captain, the way is rough and 
dubious, and you may miss your step.** 

“Out upon thee for an ass!” cried the king, 
indignantly. “ Do you think my step is growing 
feeble ? I tell thee it was never stronger. I will go 


A Royal Disguise, 


115 


the rest of the way as I have said. I shall find Selim 
at the door of the dungeon, and he will render me 
such assistance as I may need there. I must see this 
prisoner alone. He possesses a secret which I 
must fathom before he loses his head.’' 

I beg thee, sire, be careful.” 

“ Peace, good Benoni. Don’t fret on my account. 
I know what I do. I’ll find out the story of this 
robber’s life, and then his head shall come off right 
quickly. Stay you here, and await my return.” 

Thus speaking, the king moved on, and when the 
sound of his uncertain, stumbling footfall could be 
no longer heard, Julian reached forth until his hand 
touched one of his companions. 

‘‘ Who is this ?” he asked, in a hushed whisper. 

It was Selim. 

“ There is no time to lose. This captain must be 
disposed of quickly. Uncover your lantern, and I 
will throttle him.” 

Selim did as directed, and as soon as the rays of 
light fell upon the captain, the latter started to gaze 
about him. But his free-will movements were 
quickly terminated by a blow from the fist of the 
robber chieftain, which felled him to the floor, and 
before he could move, or cry out, he was securely 
bound, and Osmir’s sash passed over his mouth. 

Now,” cried Julian, “ for the king. He will be 
an easy subject to dispose off.” 

And how will you dispose of him T asked 
Osmir. 

For an instant a dark thought struggled through 
Julian’s mind. Here was an opportunity to put his 


ii6 The Scourge of Damascus. 


worst enemy out of the way, and, at the same time, 
free the world from a ruler who had ceased to do 
justly. But the thought was not long entertained. 
The soul of the chieftain was above the doing of 
such a deed. Osmir noticed the hesitation, and 
tremblingly asked : 

‘‘Will you kill him ?” 

“No, no,*' was the quick reply. “ That would be 
too cowardly. He is a poor foolish old man, whose 
continued life must be the greatest curse. We will 
put him where he put me, and let his slaves find him 
after we are gone. Come — I will lead to this event, 
and then you shall lead to the next.” 

Without further remark the robber moved on 
towards the dungeon where he had been confined, 
Selim going by his side with the lantern. Pretty 
soon they saw the king ahead of them, whereupon 
Selim was suffered to go on in advance. Horam had 
reached the door of the dungeon just as the eunuch 
came up. 

“ Ha — Selim, is this you ?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ I did not see you when I came. Where have you 
been hiding ?” 

“ I have not been hiding, sire ; but have been 
doing my duty.” 

“ And the prisoner ?” 

“ He is safe.” 

“Open the door. I would speak with him. He is 
securely chained ?” 

“ No mortal man can break the chains wherewith 
he was bound, sire.” 


A Royal Disguise, 1 1 7 


Then open — quick. His arms are bound ?” 

‘‘ Like iron, sire.” 

‘‘And he cannot move from his place ?” 

“ The chains all center upon the bolt in the floor.” 

“ Then you may remain without, Selim. I wish to 
speak with the prisoner alone.” 

The eunuch had no particular understanding with 
his companions touching this movement ; but he 
understood that Julian would act when he saw fit, 
so he proceeded to unbolt the door and throw it 
open. 

“ We c^n shut him in, and leave him,” whispered 
Osmir, when he saw the king about to pass into the 
dungeon. 

“ No, no,” quickly returned Julian. “ I have 
another thought. I may find use for those royal 
robes which he wears.” 

“ By the gods !” cried Osmir, “ the prize is worth 
ten thousand times more than I had thought. If you 
don those regal robes, Selim and I can lead you in 
safety from this place. By the blessed star, it is a 
lucky thought. Ha ! He goes in. Shall I accom- 
pany you ?” 

“ You may remain close at hand.” 

Until the present time Julian had thought of over- 
coming the king without a word — of felling him to 
the pavement and binding him, and leaving him in 
ignorance of who had done it ; but a different fancy 
seized him as he saw the monarch enter the dungeon. 
The temptation to face his deadly enemy, and let him 
know to what he owed his disgrace, was too strong 
to be resisted. The thought that he could now place 


ti8 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


his foot upon the neck of the king of Damascus, and 
grant the poor life which he had the power to take, 
was not to be passed by. And then the robber chief- 
tain had another reason for wishing to speak with the 
king, since the opportunity had thus unexpectedly 
offered itself. Horam had come on purpose to see 
him, to learn some secret. Our hero had a curiosity 
to know what this meant. 

“ Stay a moment where you are,’* he said, address- 
ing the eunuchs ; and thus speaking he passed into 
the dungeon just as the king had discovered that no 
prisoner was there. 

‘‘ Ho ! Selim !” shouted the monarch, turning his 
face to the door. What is the matter here ? Is not 
this the — ” 

He stopped, for the light of his lantern, falling 
upon the face of the man who had followed him in, 
revealed another face than that of his eunuch. 

‘‘ Horam,” spoke the chieftain, “ you find the 
Scourge of Damascus not quite as powerless as you 
had expected.” 

“ What ho ! Selim ! Selim !” 

Easy, old man. Selim will not come at your bid- 
ding. Let me inform you that I am master, for the 
present, of this lower region, and the eunuch is my 
slave.” 

Mercy !” gasped the terrified king. ‘‘What ho ! 
Benoni ! Benoni !” 

“ Benoni is in my power,” said Julian. “ He is 
bound hand and foot, and cannot help you. And, 
thou base, false man — thou, too, art in my power. 
Down in this deep dungeon, where the light of day 


A Royal Disguise, 


1 19 


cannot come, and where the noise of the upper world 
cannot penetrate, here I have thee as thou did'st hope 
to have me. Horam, I am thy master !’* 

The king’s knees smote together, and the lantern 
dropped from his hand. 

Mercy !” he cried. And then, as though remem- 
bering that he was king of Damascus, he clenched 
his hands, and tried to speak with the voice of 
authority. 

Vile miscreant,” he said, ‘Met me pass ! If you 
dare to oppose me, you shall be torn limb from 
limb !” 

“ Easy, old man. I am your master now, and if 
you give me occasion, I may do you harm.” 

There w’as that in the look, tone, and bearing of 
the stalwart chieftain which caused Horam to quail. 
The lantern had fallen in an upright position, and 
its light revealed quite plainly the features of the 
two men. 

“ You will not kill me T* whispered the king. 

“No,” replied Julian. “ I should scorn the deed ; 
and I should despise myself if I did it. I wish simply 
to do this : I must leave this palace to-night, and you 
must remain here in my place. Some of your slaves 
will find you in the morning. You must strip off 
that purple robe, and that golden chain ; and I must 
have the jeweled crown from your head. Come — I 
have no time to waste.'" 

“ Ye gods of heaven!” ejaculated Horam, “how 
can this thing be ! Who ever heard of such a thing ! 
Who dares to disrobe the king ?” 

“ I dare to do it !” replied the robber, sternly and 


120 The Scourge of Damascus. 


quickly, at the same time taking a step forward. 
‘‘ Remove the garments instantly, or I shall tear 
them from you.” 

No, no ; you dare not rob your king.” 

Peace, poor fool ! Hesitate another minute, and 
I will smite you to the floor ! Off with the robe !” 

The trembling monarch cast one look into the 
face of the man before him, and then shrank back 
against the wall. He was as a mere child, and for 
the time, while unable to do evil, he seemed an 
object of pity. 

“ If I give you these things will you spare my 
life ?” 

“I told you once — yes. And once more I beg you 
to remember that my time is short. You will save 
yourself some trouble if you obey me.” 

This was spoken very slowly, each word dropping 
from the robber’s lips with the weight of a death 
sentence ; and the lowering of the brow, the swelling 
of the broad bosom, and the nervous working of the 
hands, told too plainly that the edict must be 
obeyed. 

Trembling at every joint the king proceeded to 
the work. He pulled off the robe of purple silk, 
and cast it down ; then he took off the crown ; and 
then the golden chain. Julian picked them up, and 
turning once more to the king, said : 

I will grant you one favor before I go. You came 
hither to see me. If you have any question to ask, 
I will answer it.” 

The king started up as though he had received 
promise of some great blessing. 


A Royal Disguise, 


121 


Once I asked you who your parents were/' he 
said. ‘‘ You would not answer me. Will you answer 
me now 

“No, sir," replied Julian. “ I will not speak their 
names in your presence ; nor will I give to you the 
name of the friend whom I love." 

“ Be not too headstrong, sir robber," urged the 
king. 

“ Is that all for which you sought me ?" asked the 
chieftain, taking a step backward. 

“ I sought thee to find out who you are. I have a 
reason for asking." 

“ What reason ?" 

“ There is something in your face which interests 
me." 

“ Perhaps it looks like my father’s," said Julian, 
bitterly. “ O, if you were not a poor, decrepit old 
man, I should smite thee ; and I will take myself 
away as speedily as possible, lest my resolution fail 
me. Stand back — I will have no more to say unto 
thee. Thy slaves will find thee here in the morn- 
ing." 

The king would have followed Julian to the door, 
but the robber put him forcibly back, and then, 
having picked up the lantern from the floor, he 
hastened out from the dungeon, after which Selim 
closed the door and bolted it. 

“Histories for help cannot be heard ?" suggested 
Julian. 

“ No," answered Osmir. “These solid walls will 
drink up the sound of his voice before it reaches the 
end of this first passage." 


122 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


“ Then we have nothing more to wait for. One 
lantern will suffice, so I will leave this one behind.” 

Julian extinguished the light, and then proceeded 
to array himself in the royal apparel ; and when he 
had donned it, and stood with his form bent and 
trembling, his companions assured him that he 
would pass for the monarch well enough. His face 
alone could betray him, and that could be easily con- 
cealed. 

And now for the upper world. They stopped 
when they reached the place where the captain lay, 
and when they had assured themselves that he could 
not move until he had received help, they passed on. 
Up they went, Selim going ahead with the lantern, 
while Osmir followed close behind the disguised 
robber. Thus they passed on to the upper cham- 
bers, where sentinels were posted ; but no one 
molested them. The seeming king walked with his 
head bent, and his arms folded upon his bosom, and 
none dared to approach him. Osmir and Selim 
were known to be two of the most favored of the 
monarch's slaves, so their presence seemed all 
proper. On they went, as freely as though moving 
over a desert plain, until they stood without the 
gate of the garden wall, at which point Julian 
stopped and threw off the royal robe. 

“This chain of gold I shall keep,” he said ; “ not 
for its value as a trinket, but that I may have a 
memento of this night s adventure with the king of 
Damascus. And now, good Osmir, let us hasten to 
the place where my faithful Hobaddan waits for 
me.” 


From One Danger into Another. 123 


In the darkness of the night, by well-known ways, 
the eunuchs led the robber chieftain towards the 
dwelling of the prime minister, being still ready to 
serve him in the face of any danger. 


CHAPTER XI. 

FROM ONE DANGER INTO ANOTHER. 

Ulin would not retire until she had heard from 
the eunuch who had ^one out in behalf of the rob- 
ber chieftain. She sat in her chamber, with a single 
lamp dimly burning, and her faithful bondmaiden 
kept her company. 

‘‘I feel/' said Albia, breaking in upon a long 
silence, that we have done no more than our duty 
in lending our aid to the cause of the imprisoned 
chieftain." 

“We have done our duty to the city," returned 
Ulin, hesitatingly. “ If Julian is set free it will save 
much trouble to our king." 

“ O," cried the bondmaiden, impulsively, “I don’t 
care for the king. When he is your husband, then 
I may respect him, but I do not care for him now. 
I care more for the noble, generous, handsome 
Julian. I cannot forget how kindly he treated us, 
and how like a brother he bore himself. And, one 
thing more, I cannot forget how sad he looked when 
he left us in the Palace of the Valley. As true as I 


124 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


live, I think I almost love him. He is the best look- 
ing man I ever saw.*' 

‘‘"Albia, you must not talk in that manner before 
me.” 

Pardon, my lady. I meant no harm.” 

“I do not chide you — I do not blame you. But — 
the name of the daring robber is not one that should 
be used in my presence.” 

Dear lady,” plead Albia, had I regarded Julian 
as a real criminal, I should not have used his 
name as I did. But I looked upon him as a man 
more honorable and true than — ” 

^‘Enough, Albia. Let us drop that subject now. 
What is the hour ?” 

“ It is past midnight — I should think an hour 
past.” 

“ Then go down into the garden, and see if the 
king’s eunuch has returned.” 

Albia departed without speaking further, and 
when the princess was left alone she arose from her 
seat and walked across the floor. 

I do not think I have done wrong,” she said to 
herself, ‘‘in lending my aid to this robber. I shall 
never see him again. I do not wish to see him any 
more. And I do not suppose he would care to see 
me. I hope he will escape — I hope he will prosper 
in the years to come.” 

She ceased speaking aloud, and. pressed her hand 
upon her heart as though the other feelings must 
not come forth. 

In half an hour Albia came back. Her step was 


From One Danger into Another, 125 


light and quick, and a look of satisfaction beamed 
on her handsome face. 

“ O, my dear mistress,” she cried, as soon as she 
had closed the door behind her, “Julian is saved 1” 

“ Thank Heaven !” ejaculated the princess, 
devoutly. 

‘^He is saved, and has now started to leave the 
city.” 

“ How was it done ?” 

“ Osmir and Selim came with him ; and I only 
know that they led him forth from his prison. 
Hobaddan was in our garden, and when he saw his 
noble young master he fell upon his neck, and kissed 
him, and wept for joy. They did not stop long, for 
they had not the time to spare. Hobaddan came to 
me, and blessed me, and bade me assure my gentle 
mistress that he would pray for her while he had life 
and reason. I saw them depart, and then I turned 
back.” 

“ I hope they will meet with no more danger,” 
said Ulin half to herself. 

“ They will not be long in finding a place of 
safety,” returned Albia. “ And now, my mistress, 
what of ourselves ?” 

The princess started, and clasped her hands. 

“ It is now almost two hours past midnight, and 
in three more hours the light of day will be upon 
us.” 

“ O, Albia, I must flee from Damascus. I dare not 
remain here.” 

“ Of course we are to flee,” said the bondmaiden. 


126 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


We had promised that before Hobaddan came. 
You told me you would flee this very night.’' 

And I will keep my word if I can,” responded 
Ulin, resolutely. You were to plan for our 
departure.” 

‘‘ It is all arranged, my mistress. Shubal, your 
faithful eunuch, will accompany us. I have talked 
with him, and he is ready. He says he can procure 
horses just without the gates of the city ; and he 
knows the way to the cave of Ben Hadad. Once 
with the kind old hermit, and you are safe.” 

Ulin had no need for further thought upon the 
subject, for she had firmly resolved that she would 
flee. The more she thought of union with the king, 
the more terrible appeared the fate. At times she 
blamed herself for having admitted the idea of 
marriage with Horam ; but she did not feel that she 
had willingly done wrong. When she gave herself 
to the royal acceptance she knew nothing of the 
world — knew nothing of the trials she would have to 
endure — and knew little of the character of the man 
who wore the crown. Since that time she had 
gained knowledge, and her eyes had been opened. 
The case dwelt in her mind now as one of life or 
death, and she felt that she must save herself. 

I must write a few words to my father,” she 
said. 

“ But you will not tell him where you have gone 
“ No. I will only tell him why I have gone. I 
must do that. Get me the writing materials, Albia j 
and while I am writing you may go and find Shubal. 
We will get away as soon as possible.” 


From One Danger into Another s 127 


The bondmaiden brought a piece of parchment, a 
sharpened reed, and a small pot of ink ; and when 
she had arranged them upon the table, she left the 
apartment. Ulin sat down to the work without 
further hesitation, and wrote to her father the reason 
of her flight. When she had written all that she 
deemed necessary, she placed the parchment where 
he would be likely to find it, and then proceeded to 
gather up the few articles she meant to take with 
her. She moved steadily about the work, and if she 
trembled, it was more from anxiety than from fear 
of what she was doing. She took her jewels, of 
which she possessed a rich store, and also packed up 
a few articles of clothing. She had just accomplished 
this when Albia returned, bringing the eunuch with 
her. 

Shubal was a stout, kind-hearted slave, who had 
been many years in the family, and his attachment 
for his young mistress was strong and true. When 
she called upon him to serve her, he had no questions 
to ask, save how he should please her best. 

Shubal," said the princess, do you know what 
you have to do ?" 

“Yes, my lady ; I have to serve you." 

“ But do you know why I have called for you 
now T' 

“ Yes. I am to go with you from the city." 

“ And you are willing ?" 

“ Yes, lady — I am willing and I am glad." 

“ Then we have nothing more to detain us. Albia, 
are you ready ?" 

“Yes, my mistress." 


128 The Scourge of Damascus. 


Ulin stepped back to her dressing-table and picked 
up her jewels, and for a moment she bowed her head 
upon her folded hands. When she looked up her fair 
brow was serene, and the tremulousness had gone 
from her lip. Shubal took the bundle of clothing, 
and then the party moved out from the chamber. 
They gained the garden, and passed out by the small 
gate ; and when they had reached the street, the 
eunuch led off with a quick step. There was a 
sentinel at the city gate, but he did not trouble those 
who passed out. As Shubal had promised, he found 
horses at a small stable beyond the wall, and in less 
than an hour from the time of leaving her chamber 
the princess was safely in the saddle, with her face 
turned towards the northern mountains. 

At the distance of two leagues from the city they 
came to a small strip of wood, through which their 
path lay, where they stopped to let their horses drink 
from a living spring. Shubal had dismounted to 
hand some water up to the females, and was just in 
the act of dipping the cup, when he was startled by 
the sound of a step close at hand, and upon lifting 
his head he found a man standing directly before 
him. It was too dark to distinguish features, but 
Shubal could see that the stranger was tall and stout, 
and that his garb was not of Damascus. 

‘‘Ha! Who is this?’' demanded the eunuch, 
moving back a pace. 

“ I am a man, and have sought the spring for fresh 
water,” was the answer. “ And now, who are you ?” 

Shubal recognized the voice of an Arab ; and as 


From One Danger t 7 tto Another, 129 


he gazed more sharply on the fellow, he was able to 
see that the garb was wild and filthy. 

“ I have sought the spring as you have, Sir Arab.” 

Ah, Sir Eunuch, you recognize my tongue and 
nation, do you ?” 

“Yes ; and it would seem that you are even with 
me.” 

“ I know you are a eunuch, but that does not tell 
me whence you come.” 

“I come from Damascus.” 

“ Ah, — from Damascus ! And you have ladies 
with you. Perhaps they have money with them. 
Perhaps they have jewels. Damascus is a wealthy 
city, and her people seldom travel with empty 
purses.” 

Shubal started up, and laid his hand upon the hilt 
of his sword. 

“Your words give token of a curious disposition. 
Sir Arab.” 

“ Words are nothing. Sir Eunuch. With a simple 
contracting of the lips I can produce a sound 
that has power to call up spirits from the earth. 
Hark !” 

As he spoke the Arab gave a loud, shrill whistle, 
at the same time leaping across the spring and strik- 
ing the eunuch in the face. But Shubal was not to 
be overcome so easily by one man. The whistle had 
alarmed him, and when he saw the fellow leap, he 
was not wholly unprepared. The blow in the face 
blinded him for a moment, but as soon as his eyes 
served him, he caught his assailant by the.throat and 
hurled him to the ground. 


130 The Scourge of Damascus, 


“What sort of a man are you !” the eunuch cried, 
as he held the rascal down. 

“I am a juggler,*' replied the Arab, holding fast 
upon Shubal’s tunic. 

“ Let go my clothing, or I’ll kill you." 

The eunuch might have carried out his threat, but 
before he could make any decided movement to that 
end, he found himself surrounded by a body of 
armed men. Quick as thought he leaped to his 
feet, leaving a piece of his tunic behind him, and 
made a movement towards his horse ; but he was 
too late to reach the saddle. Half a dozen strong 
hands were laid upon him, while as many more 
were busy with the horses of the females. The 
princess cried aloud for* help, and would have 
leaped from her saddle had she not been held 
back. 

“Fair lady," spoke a rough voice, in a harsh, 
strange dialect, “ you must keep still, and give us as 
little trouble as possible." 

“ But you will not harm me, good sirs." 

“You have no occasion for fear, lady. But tell 
me — who are you ?" 

“ I am the daughter of Aboul Cassem, the prime 
minister of Damascus." 

Could Albia have moved quickly enough, she 
would have prevented her mistress from answering 
this question, but the story had been told. Ulin 
innocently thought that the name of her father 
would strike the marauders with awe, and that they 
would fear to molest her further ; but in this 


Fro 7 n One Danger into Another. 13 i 


she was somewhat mistaken, as subsequent events 
proved. 

“ By my life, comrades,” cried he, who seemed to 
be leader of the party, ‘‘ we have found a rich prize. 
Hold still, noble lady. We will not harm you. Let 
us look to this unruly slave of yours, and then you 
shall be properly cared for. You might have fallen 
into worse hands than ours.” 

When Ulin had collected her senses, so that she 
could observe and comprehend things about her, she 
looked to see her real situation. She counted eight 
of the Arabs, and she had no doubt that they 
were robbers. Four of them were securing the 
eunuch, while the other four were watching the 
horses. Shubal was very soon pinioned, and restored 
to his feet, after which she and Albia were lifted 
from their saddles. 

Don’t be alarmed,” said the leader, as the prin- 
cess cried out for mercy. ‘‘You shall be restored to 
your horses very soon. We have horses close at 
hand, and when they are brought, you shall be on 
your way again ?” 

“ You will set Shubal free ?” 

“Ah — the eunuch’s name is Shubal, is it? He 
shall be free soon enough. Rest easy a few 
moments, lady. One of my men has gone after our 
animalSo We left them upon the other side of the 
wood.” 

“ But why have you taken us from our horses ?” 
asked our heroine. 

“ You will see that anon, fair lady. Ah — here 

comes my man. Now, my fair damsels, you shall 


132 The Scourge of Damascus, 


understand the whole matter. These horses of 
yours are not such ones as I would have you ride. I 
have some here much better.” 

‘‘ What does he mean T' asked Ulin, speaking in a 
low tone to her bondmaidcn. 

Wait,” replied Albia, trying to conceal her real 
suspicions. They may inform us-.” 

Before Ulin could ask another question the Arab 
leader came forward with two horses, upon which 
he directed his companions to fix the ladies’ sad- 
dles ; and when this had been done, he turned to 
the princess, and informed her that she might take 
her seat again. She would have opposed the move- 
ment, but a strong hand was laid upon her, and, 
almost before she knew it, she was once more upon 
her saddle. 

“You will excuse me,” the fellow said, “but as 
this horse will not carry you quite so easily as your 
own, I will secure you in your place.” 

As he spoke he passed a strong cord about Ulin’s 
body, and fastened it to the girth upon either side. 
The same thing was done for Albia, and then atten- 
tion was directed to the eunuch, who was seated 
upon another strange horse, and likewise bound in 
his place. 

“ What can they mean ?” asked the princess, gain- 
ing another opportunity to speak with her attendant. 

“ I dare not guess,” said Albia. 

“Do not speak in that way,” urged Ulin. “Tell 
me what you think — I command you.” 

“ My dear mistress,” replied the bondmaiden. 


From One Danger into Another, 133 


reluctantly, their meaning is evident enough. 
These horses will follow their masters !’' 

Ha ! — and are we prisoners T* 

I fear sOo But let us hope for the best. We 
may not be harmed.*' 

At this juncture the Arabs had mounted their 
horses, three of them taking the animals which 
belonged to their prisoners, and at a word from the 
leader they were on the move. Ulin instinctively 
clung to the rein to hold herself steady, but her 
horse noticed not the guiding of her hand. The 
leader of the party rode in advance ; then followed 
two more of the gang ; then came two females ; 
and behind them followed the others, with the 
eunuchs under charge. Through the wood they 
rode at an easy pace, and when they had gained the 
open plain beyond they struck into a swift gallop. 
Ulin had discovered to her satisfaction that the 
strange horse paid no attention to the rein, so she 
only sought to keep an easy seat. She was weak 
with fear and alarm, and all sorts of dreadful pic- 
tures arose to her imagination as she sped on. She 
could not speak with Albia, for the clattering of 
hoofs drowned her voice. What did it mean .> 
Where would it end ? 

On they sped, straight over the plain — on, on, on 
— without halting or turning — on through the 
darkness of the night — on, league after league — 
until the gray streaks of morning appeared in the 
eastern horizon. Another wood was before them, 
and when it was reached, the party stopped. Not 
far distanc, where a clump of noble palms reared 


134 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


aloft their plaited foliage, a crystal spring burst 
forth from the green earth, and the Arabs held their 
panting horses back from the tempting beverage. 

“ Now, lady, you may find repose,'’ said the leader, 
as he came and lifted Ulin from her seat. ‘‘ We 
shall remain here a few hours. I will be with you 
again presently.” 

He turned and handed Albia to the ground, and 
then went to where his followers were taking care of 
the eunuch. 

‘‘ Albia, what will they do with us T' cried the 
princess, clasping her hands in terror. 

But the bondmaiden could not answer. If she 
held suspicions, she dared not speak them. 

O, I wish I had not taken this false step ! It is a 
punishment for my sin !” 

Hush, dear mistress. It is our fate. It is no 
punishment. Wait until we know what this Arab 
means to do with us.” 

‘‘What can he mean? It must be something 
dreadful. Why has he taken us away so far ? O, 
Albia, I am frightened.” 

“ No, no, sweet lady. Have a hope. They will 
not kill us.” 

“ Ah,” murmured the princess, with folded hands, 
“ there may be a fate from which death would be a 
happy escape !” 

The bondmaiden shuddered, and from her thoughts 
at that moment she could frame no reply which she 
dared to speak aloud. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE ARABS* PURPOSE. 

As Ulin sat upon the greensward, with her back 
against a palm tree, and one hand resting upon 
Albia’s arm, she could take a clear view of her cap- 
tors. The sun was just tinging the distant mountain 
tops with its golden light, and the last shadow of the 
night had gone. The Arabs had watered the horses 
and left them where they could crop the green grass, 
and were now gathered together, listening to the 
words of their chief. 

They were rough, dark looking men, these Arabs. 
Their clothing was sparse and poor, and their skin 
swart and dirty ; but their weapons were bright and 
keen, and their horses in most perfect condition, both 
as to health and cleanliness. A little while they 
conversed together, and then one of them brought 
forth the bundle which had been taken from Shubal. 
It was opened by the leader, and the articles of cloth- 
ing which it contained were spread out upon the 
ground. Folded up in a silken scarf was found a 
purse, from which fell a score or more of broad gold 
pieces ; whereupon the marauders gave utterance to 
various exclamations of satisfaction. 




136 The Scourge of Damascus. 


They are robbers/' said Ulin, as she saw them 
dividing the gold. 

Certainly," responded Albia. “ I have suspected 
that from the first." 

‘‘ Can they belong to Julian's band ?" 

‘‘Why should you ask such a question, my mis- 
tress ? You know that Julian would never have such 
men about him." 

As she spoke, the Arab leader came towards them, 
and after gazing upon them for a few moments, he 
said, addressing the princess : 

“ I hope you find yourself none the worse for this 
little deviation from your original course ; for, let 
me assure you, the meeting has afforded me much 
pleasure. Does the princess Ulin know who is 
speaking to her ?" 

“ No, sir," replied Ulin. 

“ Then she shall know into whose protecting hand 
she has had the fortune of falling. I am A1 Abbas. 
Does the name sound familiar ?" 

“ No, sir." 

“ It is familiar enough to me," said Albia. 

“Ah, pretty one — and what know you of it ?" 

“ I have heard the name, sir, when speech has 
been made touching a certain Arab robber, whose 
deeds had caused him to be feared by honest trav-. 
elers." 

The rascal seemed pleased with this remark, and 
smilingly returned : 

“ You have hit the truth, my fair damsel. I am 
the robber, A1 Abbas ; and I am a terror to those 
who fear to lose their money. But, my dear lady," 


The Arabs Purpose, 


137 


he continued, turning to the princess, ‘‘ you cannot 
have any such fears. We have found some little 
money belonging to you ; and I take the liberty of 
asking you if you have any jewels about you.” 

He approached nearer as he spoke, and held out 
his hand. Ulin knew not how to refuse, and she 
furthermore saw that refusal would be useless ; so 
she drew forth from her bosom a casket of chamois 
skin, bound with bands of gold, and handed it over. 
The robber took it, and opened it ; and as his eyes 
rested upon the sparkling jewels — pearl, diamond, 
emerald, topaz, and opal — he gave utterance to an 
exclamation of delight. 

By my life, lady, you came well provided. I will 
take care of these gems for you. They will be much 
safer in my custody.” 

‘‘ I understand you,” said the princess, as she saw 
the fellow close the casket, and place it in his own 
bosom. ‘‘You mean to keep those jewels, as you do 
the gold which you have found.” 

“You are shrewd at guessing, lady.** 

“ I think I have good grounds for my opinion, sir. 
Take them, if you want them ; and in return I only 
ask that you will let us go free. You are welcome 
to all you have if you will give us our liberty.” 

“ You will rest before you go.** 

“ I do not wish to rest long.” 

“ Nor would I have you. But for the present you 
had better lie down upon this soft grass, and find 
some slight repose. I will call you when we move.** 
And as he thus spoke, he turned away and joined 
his companions. 


138 The Scourge of Damascus. 


Will they let us go ?” murmured Ulin, letting 
her head fall upon her companion’s shoulder. 

‘‘ I hope so, my mistress. But come — we cannot 
learn their intent until they please to tell us ; and in 
the meantime you had better seek some rest. You 
are tired and worn. Lay your head upon my lap — 
so. And we will hope for the best.” 

Albia drew the head of her mistress gently down, 
and in a little while the weary princess was asleep. 
And the bondmaiden did not long remain upon the 
watch. Her own lids were heavy, and very soon her 
senses were locked in slumber. 

A1 Abbas moved noiselessly to the spot where the 
worn maidens slept, and presently others of his band 
joined him. 

By the blood of Cush,” muttered the robber 
chief, they are beautiful enough ! The lady Ulin 
is the fairest maiden I ever saw.” 

‘‘ They are both of them far too beautiful to be 
roaming at large,” said another of the gang. 

They are worth more than jewels,” added a 
third. 

‘^You are right,” responded the leader. ^^This 
princess would sell for a diadem, beyond the Syrian 
desert. But let them sleep, and when they are 
rested we will call them. If we would turn the 
prize into gold, we must not suffer it to fade from 
neglect.” 

After this the robbers sat down to their morning’s 
meal ; and when they had done eating some of them 
went to sleep upon the grass. 

At the expiration of two hours Ulin awoke with a 


The Arabs Purpose. 


139 


sharp cry, and caught her companion convulsively 
by the arm, and cried : 

O! — and it was only a dream. How frightful it 
was.** 

“ Only a dream, dear mistress. We are safe and 
well.” 

‘‘ Thank heaven !’* 

A1 Abbas, as soon as he saw that the giris were 
awake, gave a shrill whistle, such as he had sounded 
on a previous occasion, and in an instant his men 
were upon their feet. The horses, also, noticed the 
signal, for they lifted their heads, and moved up 
together, as though ready to serve their masters. 

“ I hope you have rested well,** said the chief, 
approaching the princess. 

“ I have slept, sir,** she replied, trembling as she 
looked into his dark face. 

Then you are ready to resume your saddle. We 
will ride before the heat of the noonday sun is upon 
us.** 

“You will not claim us for companions further, I 
trust.’* 

“ Only while our roads lay together, lady. Surely 
you cannot object to that.** 

“ But I wish to go to the bank of the Pharphar.** 

“Just as I expected; so I shall not be disap- 
pointed. Your horses are ready. I will have them 
brought this way.” 

The eunuch had already been placed upon a 
horse, and Ulin saw them binding him to the saddle. 
What did tliis mean ? 

Hardly knowing what she did, Ulin suffered her- 


140 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


self to be lifted into the saddle ; and in a few 
moments more Albia was by her side. 

Why have you bound Shubal to his seat she 
asked. 

That he may ride more safely. He is a bung- 
ling fellow, and might tumble off if he were not 
secured. But don’t let that worry you.” 

At this moment the eunuch came near to the place 
where his mistress sat, his horse having moved of 
his own accord, and as she turned towards him, he 
spoke to her: 

“ My dear good lady, they lie to you when they 
tell you that they mean you no harm. I have heard 
them talk, and I know their plans. We are all to be 
sold into slavery in the kingdom beyond the Syrian 
desert !” 

‘‘ Mercy !” cried Ulin, turning pale as death and 
clasping her hands in agony. “ O, my dream ! my 
dream !” 

‘‘ Easy, fair lady," said A1 Abbas. ‘‘ This black 
rascal knows not what he says. I allowed him to 
speak so that I might see how his mind ran.” 

“It is false,” exclaimed Shubal. “I heard them 
lay the plan. You, my mistress, are to be sold for 
a — ” 

The eunuch’s speech was stopped by two of the 
robbers, who threw him back upon his horse, and 
stopped his mouth with their hands. 

“ Sir robber,” cried Ulin, stretching her hands out 
towards him, “ deceive me no more. I think my 
poor slave has told me the truth.” 

“ A pest upon the slave, lady I His tongue shall 


The Arabs’ Purpose, 


141 


come out by the roots if he speaks again without my 
leave. Stick to your saddle, and keep up your cour- 
age.” 

As the Arab spoke, he leaped upon the back of his 
horse, and ere the princess could ask another ques- 
tion, the party was upon the move, the order of 
arrangement being the same as before. 

“ We are not going towards the Pharphar,” said 
Ulin. 

“ No,” replied Albia. We are going the other 
way.” 

Then Shubal told us the truth.” 

‘‘ Alas, dear mistress, I dare not say.” 

But you think so ?” 

I cannot deny it.” 

‘‘ And you thought so before you heard Shubal 
speak ?” 

I feared something of the kind.” 

A1 Abbas overheard the girls as they thus con- 
versed, and he was presently by their side. 

Lady Ulin,” he said, and he spoke sternly and 
sharply ; you are now on the move, and when you 
stop again it will be far away from Damascus. I 
owe something to the officers of that city, and I will 
repay a part of the debt by taking you away from 
them. You are to go just as far as I please to take 
you ; and the more quietly you go, the better it will 
be for you ; so you had better begin to accommodate 
yourself to the circumstances.” 

He rode back to his place, and Ulin grasped the 
bow of her saddle for support. 

Courage,” said Albia, riding as near as she could. 


142 The Scourge of Damascus. 


“ There may be some way to escape. The good 
spirits will not desert us.” 

The princess heard the words, and they had a 
marked effect upon her. She had naturally a strong 
resolution, and when she was once resolved to bear 
up, her strength was not long in coming to her 
assistance. On the present occasion she knew that 
she had heard the worst. In fact, she had reason to 
believe that her captor meant for her the most dread- 
ful fate to which one in her station could be subject. 
For a while she was completely stunned by the fear- 
ful blow ; but as she came to reason with herself, 
she saw that her only hope was in escape. The 
Arabs were low, brutal and sordid, and would sell 
her for gold. She could read in their evil faces that 
they were not to be touched by sympathy. What 
then could she do ? She must get away from them. 
And, if this was to be done, she must summon all 
her energies to the work. 

But, alas ! the case looked hopeless enough ; what 
could two weak girls do against such odds ? Only 
some interposition beyond their own efforts could 
save them. So, after all, if help was to come, it 
must come from some unknown source. And could 
such help be found ? If fervent prayers could be 
answered,' and if the most holy need could be met, 
it might be hoped for. 

At the end of some two or three hours the party 
came to a thick grove of palms, near which was a 
spring, and here they stopped just long enough to 
water the horses. They had started on again, and 
were at some little distance from the grove, when 


The Arabs Purpose. 


143 


one of the Arabs who rode in the rear, came forward 
and informed his leader that a horseman was follow- 
ing them. A1 Abbas looked back, and saw that the 
stranger was a black, and that he rode a swift and 
powerful horse. 

‘‘ He wishes to overtake us,’* said the fellow who 
had come from the rear. 

Then he must ride for it,” returned the chief. 
‘‘I cannot stop. I wonder where he came from.” 

^^When I first saw him, he seemed to have just 
emerged from the grove.” 

In a short time the strange horseman had come so 
near that the light of his eyes could be seen, and A1 
Abbas saw that he must soon overtake them ; so he 
concluded to drop behind and find out what was 
wanted, evidently desiring that the men should not 
see what manner of prizes he had in charge, at least 
until his character was known. The robbers were 
directed to slacken their speed a little, but to keep 
on their course ; and having given this order, the 
chief turned his horse’s head, and rode back ; and 
ere long he was within speaking distance of the 
stranger, who proved to be a stout, well-made man, 
with a face as black as night. 

“ Hallo ! cried A1 Abbas, reining in his horse. 

Who are you ?” 

“ I am king of this plain,” replied the African, at 
the same time reining in his own horse ; and I 
have come out to see who thus trespasses upon my 
domain. Who are you ?” 

The Arab hesitated in his answer, as he supposed 
the black must be crazy. 


144 Scotirge of Damascus. 


Who are you, and what sort of a company do 
you lead ?’' cried the African. 

lead my own company ; and if you want any- 
thing, come and get it,’* answered the Arab. 

‘‘ I want nothing but to know who you are ; and 
the next time you come this, way, be sure and stop 
again at the grove of the date-palms. I will have a 
banquet prepared for you.** 

Thus speaking the stranger wheeled his horse in a 
broad circle, and started back towards the place 
whence he had come. 

A1 Abbas rode back to his party, and when they 
asked him what manner of man he had met, he 
replied that it was only a poor crazy fool, who 
imagined that he owned the broad plain upon which 
they were traveling. 

‘‘ He is not worth capturing ?’* suggested one of 
the robbers. 

We could not capture him if we would,** said 
the chief. He rides a better horse than we own.** 

While the Arabs were gazing back after the retir- 
ing horseman, Albia drew close to the side of her 
mistress, and spoke, quickly and excitedly ; 

“ Did you recognize him ?” 

Whom ?’* 

The crazy man who followed us.*' 

‘‘No.** 

“ It was Osmir !** 

“Osmir !’* 

“ Hush ! Not a word. As sure as I live it 
was Osmir ; and be assured we have help at 
hand.** 


By the Banks of the Pharphar. 145 


But he has gone.” 

Aye, for he only came out to see who we were. 
Be sure he has recognized us.” 

Ulin felt her heart bound up with springing 
hope ; and her next prayer was uttered with return- 
ing faith in heaven’s protecting power. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

BY THE BANKS OF THE PHARPHAR. 

Half an hour after A1 Abbas had resumed his 
place at the head of his troop, the same robber 
who had before come from the rear, again rode to 
the front, this time bringing intelligence that a 
number of horsemen w’ere pursuing them. The 
chief drew his horse aside and looked back, and saw 
four men coming. They were well mounted, and 
seemed to be in hot pursuit. 

There is something more than accident in this,” 
said A1 Abbas. The fellow is with them who fol- 
lowed us before.” 

Two of those men are white,” remarked the rob- 
ber who had ridden up from the rear. ‘‘ What can 
they want of us ?” 

‘‘Never mind,” returned the chief. “If they 
want us, let them catch us. And if, beyond that, they 
want more, let them make their wants known.” 

Thus speaking, the Arab leader resumed his place. 


146 The Scourge of Damascus. 


and urged his horse forward with increasing speed. 
Ever and anon he cast his eyes behind him, and it 
was ere long evident that the strangers were rap- 
idly gaining upon him. He could have ridden 
faster — perhaps as fast as rode those who pursued 
him, — but there were horses in his train that had 
already struck their best gait. Those upon which 
the females rode could be urged no more with 
safety ; so he was forced to accommodate himself to 
the capacities of his poorest animals. However, he 
felt no fear. He had no idea that the four coming 
men could do him harm. He rather thought that, if 
they overhauled him, and offered sufficient induce- 
ment, he would capture and rob them. In half an 
hour more the pursuers were within hailing distance, 
and their leader cried out for theArabs to stop. 

We may as well stop now as at any time,” said 
A1 Abbas, addressing the man who rode by his side. 

I will halt and ascertain what these fellows want. 
It is about time our horses had a breathing spell.” 

At a simple order from their chief, the Arabs 
wheeled their horses in a circle, bringing up in line, 
facing their pursuers,with their prisoners in the rear. 

‘^Who are you that thus pursues and stops me?” 
demanded A1 Abbas. 

I am Julian, the Scourge of Damascus !” replied 
the foremost of the opposite party. 

At the sound of that name the Arab trembled, for 
he knew that no king’s officer had been more per- 
sistent in driving petty robbers from the plains 
of Damascus than had Julian. But presently he 
recovered himself, seeming to think that, were the 


By the Banks of the Pharphar. 147 


man’s assertion true, the opposing force was not 
strong enough to be feared. 

If you be Julian,” he cried, you have come 
forth with a small retinue. But what seek you ?” 

‘‘ I have come to take from you those prisoners 
that you hold. Deliver them up to me, and I will 
trouble you no more.” 

“And suppose that I should refuse to do any such 
thing ?” 

“ Then I should be forced to take them from you. 
As I address you, I recognize who you are. If I am 
not greatly mistaken, you are A1 Abbas, the Arab — a 
villain who lives by robbing women and old men.” 

“ Now, by the blood of Cush !” exclaimed A1 
Abbas, drawing his sword and urging his horse for- 
ward, “I’ll make you feel another thing the Arab 
robber can do ! What, ho, my men ! Down with 
these rascals !” 

In a moment the Arabs were ready for action, and 
hurried forward to strike with their leader. 

As soon as Shubal found his guard gone, he called 
to Albia to come and set him free. 

“Cut these cords,” he cried, “ and I may [be of 
some help in this affair. Merciful heaven, is not this 
the work of a good spirit !” 

The bondmaiden was not long in setting the 
eunuch free from his saddle ; and as soon as he was 
clear, he sprang forward to where the ring of clash- 
ing steel had already broke upon the air. 

With something like a smile of disdain upon his 
handsome features did Julian behold the approach 
of the Arabs, while Hobaddan, who sat close by his 


148 The Scourge of Damascus, 


side, looked grim and stern. Osmir and Selim drew 
to the front as the token of battle was given, and 
their cool, determined bearing, plainly showed that 
they were foemen not to be despised. A1 Abbas 
rode directly for the youthful chieftain, with his 
sword ready for the stroke ; but he had mistaken his 
man, if he thought to touch any vulnerable point. 
Julian knocked his weapon up, and quickly drove 
him from his horse ; and then, seeking to make 
quick work of it, and feeling no great sympathy for 
woman-stealers, he simply rode the Arab leader 
down, cleaving open his head as he fell. 

Shubal was close at hand when A1 Abbas dropped, 
and quickly as possible he possessed himself of the 
fallen man’s sword, and was just in season to join in 
the conflict as three of the Arabs had attacked 
Julian. The young chieftain struck down one of 
them by a winding blow across the bare neck, but 
he might have had severe work with the other two 
had not help arrived ; for the rascals were strong, 
and the death of their leader had given them new 
impulse to conquer. It was not the impulse of 
revenge. No, no. The death of A1 Abbas left more 
gold for those who survived. But the unexpected 
arrival of the freed eunuch upon the scene gave a 
new turn to the tide. One of the Arabs he struck 
down from behind, and the other one alone proved 
no match for the stalwart chieftain. 

In the meantime Hobaddan, with Osmir and Selim, 
had disposed of the others. Two they had slain, and 
two had taken to flight. 

And thus was the work accomplished ; and with a 


By the Banks of the Pharphar. 149 


result not to be wondered at. The Arabs had been 
brave enough over their rich prizes, but they had 
lacked the sinew and force of the attacking party. 
In fact, upon foot, hand to hand, and front to front, 
either Julian or his lieutenant might have been a 
match for half of them. 

Those two rascals are not worth pursuing," said 
our hero, as he noticed that Hobaddan was looking 
after the fleeing Arabs. ‘‘ Let them go. We have 
gained all we sought." 

After this Julian turned towards the females. 
Ulin saw him coming, and, with no thought save that 
of tenderest gratitude, she moved forward to meet him. 

Heaven bless you, kind sir !" she said, as she 
extended to him her hand. 

‘‘ Sweet lady," returned the chieftain, fervently, 
talk not of blessings to me. Let me be the one to 
call down blessings. I know to whom I owe my life 
and my liberty. Hobaddan has told me all. O, let 
me bear ever with me the blessed privilege of remem- 
bering thee in my prayers to God !" 

Tears gathered in the eyes of the maiden, and her 
lips trembled ; and when she spoke her voice 
betrayed the deep emotion that stirred her soul. 

‘‘ Indeed, fair sir," she said, with her hand still 
resting in his, ‘^you should not deny to me the 
privilege which you claim for yourself. If you can 
feel pleasure in cherishing a holy gratitude, I can 
feel the same. When I remember the dreadful fate 
to which the Arabs had doomed me, I cannot forget 
the blessings which are due to the kind power that 
delivered me." 


T 50 The Scourge of Damascus, 


‘‘As you please, lady," replied Julian, letting go 
her hand. “ The thought that thou art blessing me, 
will be a blessing indeed. And here is our fair 
Albia," he continued, turning to the bondmaiden — 
and a close observer might have seen that he thus 
turned in order to subdue emotions that were rising 
to trouble him. “ I do not forget that some blessing 
belongs to you." 

“ I have served my mistress," said Albia, modestly. 
And then, perceiving that a change of subject would 
be a relief to both parties, she added — “We owe you 
so much, sir, that you will be forced to accept my 
grateful blessings with those of my lady. And now, 
if I may dare to interrupt you, will you tell us how 
you chanced to discover us ?" 

“ It was very simple, lady," replied Julian, direct- 
ing his answer to the princess ; “ and though seem- 
ingly an accident, still I cannot help thinking that 
some kind spirit must have superintended the work. 
When we left Damascus, we took a course slightly 
different from this ; but on the way we met a poor 
traveler who informed us that he had been robbed. 
He did not tell us that the robbers were Arabs, and 
I fancied that they might be some of my own people. 
Fearing this, I determined to follow them. Their 
course was a crooked one, and when I finally reached 
the grove of date-palms, I had made up my mind 
to search no more. We were asleep in the grove, 
and Osmir awoke just as a party of horsemen were 
leaving the spring. He ran out and discovered that 
the strangers were Arabs, and that they had two 
females with them. Upon this I ordered him to 


By the Banks of the Pharphar, 15 1 


mount his horse and follow the fellows until he had 
discovered who and what they were. When he 
returned he informed me that the strangers were 
Arab robbers, and that they had with them the prin- 
cess Ulin of Damascus. 1 leave you to imagine the 
rest.'’ 

“ I know the rest, good sir,’* said Ulin, with a 
grateful look. As she spoke she saw a spot of blood 
upon Julian’s tunic, and when she looked more 
closely she thought she saw blood trickling down 
from his bosom. 

“ You are wounded !’* she cried, turning pale. 

‘‘ Only a slight prick, good lady,” he replied, 
laughing. ^‘The rascals surrounded me. I think I 
might have been a match for the whole of them had 
they attacked me in the front ; but when they came 
upon both sides, the chances were against me. 
However, our faithful Shubal came to the rescue 
just in season, and perhaps saved me from a worse 
wound than this. Still, I will go and let my lieu- 
tenant look at the scratch, and then we will provide 
for the hours to come.” 

The chieftain directed the eunuchs to drag the 
bodies of the dead Arabs together, and take from 
them the gold and jewels which had been taken 
from the princess, and then to cover them up in the 
sand ; after which he requested Hobaddan to exam- 
ine his wound. It seemed to be but a slight punc- 
ture, just below the collar bone, upon the left side, 
and as it was bleeding but slightly, Julian concluded 
not to have it probed. A simple compress staunched 


152 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


the blood, and it was thought that there could be 
no danger. 

When the eunuchs had done their work, the chief- 
tain approached our heroine, and asked her whither 
she wished to go. 

“I will see you safe to your journey’s end,” he 
said, “ even though it be to the gates of Damascus.” 

“ I go not that way, sir,” she replied. I wish to 
find the cave of an old hermit named Ben Hadad.” 

Julian started as he heard this ; but he quickly 
recovered himself. 

Do you know that old man he asked. 

“ No, sir — I never saw him ; but he was a friend 
to my mother, and I think he will be a friend to 
me.’* 

“ Ah — do you go out from Damascus to find a 
friend ?” 

‘‘I pray you, sir, ask me no questions. If you 
know where Ben Hadad lives, and it would not 
trouble you too much, I freely accept your escort.” 

Noble lady, I not only know his place of abode, 
but my own course lies directly that way. If we 
start at once, and meet with no further obstacle, we 
may reach it by the rising of another sun.” 

The sooner we start the better,” said Ulin ; and 
I can ride a long time without resting.” 

‘‘ We will ride as fast and as far as our horses are 
willing,” added Julian, as he turned to prepare for 
the move. 

In a few minutes they were mounted, Ulin and 
Albia once more taking the horses that had brought 
them from Damascus; aud when all was ready, the 


By the Banks of the Pharphar, 153 


chieftain and his lieutenant led off, leaving Shubal 
to ride with the females, while Osmir and Selim 
brought up the rear, 

A few hours past noon they stopped in a pleasant 
grove, where pure fresh water bubbled forth from a 
basin of white sand, and here they made -a dinner of 
bread and fruit, while the horses rested. Julian 
spoke with the princess, and asked her how she bore 
the fatigue of the journey ; but his manner was free 
from any shade of familiarity. She in turn asked 
concerning his wound, and expressed the hope that 
it might not prove serious. When he had gone 
Albia remarked : 

‘‘ The more I see of that man, the more do I love 
and honor him. He is no common man, my lady.'' 

“I shall always remember him with gratitude," 
returned Ulin, gazing down as she spoke. 

And I,'^ added the bondmaiden, earnestly, 

should like to remain with him, and serve him 
always." 

‘‘You are generous, Albia.” 

“ Because I am but a poor slave, and can only pay 
such debts with grateful service." 

“ No, no, Albia — a slave no more. When we le*ft 
my father's house you stepped forth free. You are 
my companion — not my slave." 

The girl caught the hand of her mistress, and 
bathed it with tears. 

“ Free !" she murmured. “ Aye — free to serve you 
now and evermore ! Still, dear lady, there is a holy 
satisfaction in feeling that the servile badge is 
stricken off. Your poor slave loved you truly, and 


154 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


you may be assured that she will love you none the 
less now that she is a slave no more.’' 

Shortly after this, and while yet Albia was drying 
her eyes, Julian called up the horses, and made 
ready for another start. 

Late in the evening they reached the bank of the 
Pharphar, and once more stopped to rest. The cave 
of the hermit was only a few leagues distant, and 
could be easily reached by midnight. For himself 
the chieftain did not care. He wished the princess 
to act her own pleasure. 

I will go on as soon as the horses are ready,” she 
said. ‘‘I would rather ride than stop here.” She 
reflected a moment, and then asked : Do you 

know a woman named Ezabel ?” 

‘‘Yes, lady, I know her very well. Do you know 
her ?” 

“ My mother knew her, sir ; and Albia knows her, 
and says she will be kind to me. Do you think she 
is with the hermit ?” 

“ She is with him if she lives ; or, at any rate, not 
far from him. But we shall soon see.” 

Albia was upon the point of remarking to her mis- 
tress that the chieftain seemed to be well acquainted 
with the hermit’s affairs, w’hen she was interrupted 
by the order to prepare for starting ; and ere long 
they were again on the move. 

The cave of Ben Hadad was in a deep valley, 
where the river wound between two long, high hills ; 
and thick woods shut it out from the heat of the 
noonday sun and from the gaze of the stranger. A 
good path led to it from the plain, though a person 


By the Banks of the Pharphar, 155 


needed acquaintance with the way in order safely to 
follow it. Julian was surely used to the path, for 
he threaded its various windings without any hesita- 
tion, and at length drew up before a bold face of 
rock, beneath an overhanging shelf of which was 
the entrance to Ben Hadad’s cave. It was too dark 
now to see all this plainly, but those who had been 
there before, knew very well where they were. A 
loud call from Hobaddan soon brought a lighted 
torch from the cave, borne by a black slave. 

What ho, Ortok ; where is your master ?” 
demanded the lieutenant. 

Ho, ho, — it is Hobaddan.” 

Yes, you grinning rascal ; it is I ; and it is also 
Julian ; and, futhermore, others are with us. Where 
is Ben Hadad ?” 

He is in his bed, sir, sound asleep.” 

And where is my — Where is Ezabel ?” 

She is also asleep, sir.” 

Then call them at once. But hold — lead us into 
the cave first.” 

The negro came out with his torch, and while 
Hobaddan stopped a few moments with the eunuchs 
to look after the horses, Julian led Ulin and Albia 
into the cave. It was a broad, high chamber in the 
solid rock, and the light of the torch revealed the 
fact that there must be other chambers beyond. 

In a little while a tall, broad-shouldered old man, 
with hair and beard as white as the breast of a swan, 
came forth from a distant passage, and almost at the 
same time an aged woman came from another direc- 


156 The Scourge of Damascus, 


tion. Julian quickly approached them, and spoke a 
few words in private, and then said, aloud : 

‘‘ These ladies, good father and mother, seek your 
aid and protection. Ask them no questions to-night, 
for they are worn and weary, and need repose. On 
the morrow they will tell you their story.” He then 
approached the princess. 

‘‘ Fair lady, with this good woman you may trust 
yourself as with a mother. Go with her ; and may 
kind spirits watch over you while you sleep.” 

‘‘ But — sir — you are not going away.” 

I shall rest here through the night, lady, and may 
see you in the morning.” 

The old woman, when she saw Albia’s face, recog- 
nized her at once ; and as she gazed upon the beau- 
tiful features of the princess, she said : 

I think this must be the daughter of Aboul 
Cassem.” 

‘^Yes, good mother,” replied Albia ; but stop 
not here. You shall know all in the morning. My 
lady is tired now.” 

Without speaking further, the woman led the way 
through a narrow, rough passage, to a chamber 
where was bedding, and furniture of stools and 
stands. 

Lady,” she said, turning to our heroine, your 
mother was kind to me, and I will be kind to you. 
I see that you are well nigh exhausted, so I will 
leave you to repose, trusting that on the morrow you 
will tell me how I can serve you.” 

The princess returned her grateful thanks, and 


Dreams. 


157 


Ezabel, when she had seen that the bedding was 
dry, placed the lamp upon a stand and withdrew. 

Ulin was too weak from fatigue to converse, even 
with her faithful Albia ; and in a very few moments 
after she had rested her head upon the pillow, she 
was fast asleep. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

DREAMS. 

Ulin awoke from a troubled dream, and found 
Albia by her side. Her first question was to know 
where she was ; for she had no clear perception of 
the true line between her dreams and the realities 
through which she had passed. Albia told her where 
she was, and also informed her what had transpired 
since their arrival at the cave. 

We are with the hermit, then,*' said the princess, 
as she arose from her bed, and gazed about her. 

The chamber was of irregular shape, with rough 
and ragged walls, hollowed out from the solid rock 
as though by some rending convulsion, the light of 
day coming in from a fissure overhead, where the 
rock had been split. 

“ We are with Ben Hadad,*’ returned Albia ; ‘‘and 
for the present we are safe.’* 

“ I saw an old woman when I came here.” 

^‘Yes. That was Ezabel. I have told you about 


158 The Scourge of Damascus, 


her. She is a good, kind woman ; and I know you 
will like her.*' 

But,*’ said Ulin, ‘‘if we claim the friendship and 
protection of Ben Hadad and Ezabel, we must give 
them some reason for having left our home.** 

“ Certainly,” responded the attendant, looking up 
into the face of her mistress. 

“ And what shall we tell them ?” 

“ My dear lady, there is but one thing which we 
can tell. These people know the king of Damascus 
very well ; and when they have heard your story, 
they will be sure to give you their whole sympathy.” 

“We had better tell them all, Albia ?” 

“Yes, my mistress.” 

Almost as Albia spoke, Ezabel appeared in the 
chamber. She was a mild-eyed, benevolent-looking 
woman, of three-score-and-ten, with the flush of 
health upon her cheek, and the vigor of strength in 
her upright carriage. 

“Ah, my dear lady Ulin,” she said, “ I think I 
find you somewhat rested.'* 

“ Yes, mother, — I have slept well.” 

“ And I fancy you can eat something this morn- 
ing.” 

The princess confessed that she felt the need of 
food, and Ezabel went away to bring it. In a little 
while she returned, bearing in her hands a wooden 
tray, upon which were bread, some cold meat, and a 
bowl of goat’s milk. Ulin and Albia made a hearty 
meal, and when they had finished, the old woman was 
anxious to know why they had sought the hermit’s 
cave. 


Dreams. 


159 


“ Good mother,’^ replied Ulin, I shall tell you 
the whole truth, and then you will know just how 
much protection we need/' 

And thereupon she went on, and related all that 
had transpired, from the time of her strange dream 
to the present. She told how she had consented to 
be the wife of the king — she told of the death of her 
mother — and then she told how, in her bereavement, 
she began to dread and fear the man she had 
promised to marry. 

“ Do not think me foolish," she said, raising a 
supplicating glance to Ezabel’s face. When I 
promised to be the king's wife I was truthful and 
sincere. I was made to believe that my dream, so 
strangely repeated, was prophetic. But as time 
passed, and I came to know Horam, my heart 
shrank from the ordeal with a deathly faintness. I 
dreamed of poor Helena by night, and dreaded that 
unfortunate queen's fate by day. In short, I came 
to look upon the estate of queen as worse than death. 
The hour in which the deed was to be done was 
nigh at hand. There was but one way of escape. 
Albia told me of you. She said you were my 
mother’s friend, and she knew you would be my 
friend. Let me trust that I have not sought friend- 
ship in vain." 

The woman took Ulin's hand, and pressed it 
warmly between her own. 

Dear child," she said, with much emotion, for 
she had been deeply moved during the recital — 
‘‘you could not have told your story to one who 
could have better understood it. I not only sympa- 


i6o The Scourge of Damascus. 


thize with you, but I will protect you, if need be, 
with all the power I possess ; and I assure you that 
our good Ben Hadad will join me with all his heart. 
You did right in fleeing from the wicked king. I 
know him well, lady ; and I believe you have not only 
saved yourself from an unhappy fate, but you have 
saved Horam from committing more crime. Thus 
much we understand ; and now, my dear Ulin, if I 
may venture upon the inquiry, what do you propose 
to do in the future ?" 

My thoughts in that direction have been vague 
and troublesome,’' replied the princess. She spoke 
frankly, for Ezabel had won her entire confidence. 
“ I have reflected upon the subject, and my mind has 
found but one resting place. I must remain away 
from Damascus until the king is dead. I can think 
nothing more. Where I abide I care not, so long as 
I am safe from harm.” 

‘^That is thought enough,” said Ezabel ; and for 
the present you need think no more. You are safe 
here, at least for now ; and when that safety ceases 
it will be time to turn our thoughts in another 
direction. Your mother was my friend — more so 
than I can now tell. She helped me when I had no 
other help ; and I, in turn, will help the daughter 
while I have strength. So, Ulin, compose yourself, 
and feel that you have found a home.” 

The princess fell upon the woman’s neck and 
blessed her ; and after a little time she became 
calm, and wiped the grateful tears from her face. 
Her next question was of Julian. Had he yet left 
the cave ?” 


Dreams. 


i6i 


No,” replied Ezabel ; nor will he leave it at 
present ! He is wounded in the breast, and — ” 

“Wounded!” repeated Ulin, catching suddenly 
at the word, and turning pale. “ Is it dan- 
gerous ?” 

“ No, not dangerous, lady ; but he must have 
rest and nursing. It is more serious than he at first 
thought ; but if he is careful, there will be no 
danger.” 

“ Oh,” cried the maiden, in a tone of relief, “I am 
glad it is not dangerous. If he had suffered on my 
account, the joy of my escape from Horam would 
have been sadly darkened.” 

Ezabel bowed her head, and pressed her hands 
upon her brow. There was certainly some deep 
and sudden emotion moving within her, for her 
frame trembled, and incoherent whisperings fell from 
her lips. 

“Julian will not suffer,” she said, when she at 
length raised her head. “ Ben Hadad has examined 
his wound, and it can be easily healed.” 

“ You have known Julian for some time,” pursued 
Ulin, musingly. 

“Yes. I have known him from childhood, and my 
son has been his constant companion.” 

“Your son ?” 

“ Ah — perhaps you did not know that Hobaddan 
was my son.” 

“ I did not.” 

“ Well — such is the fact. Hobaddan is my only 
child. He was a strong youth, with the stature of 
manhood, while yet Julian was an infant ; and 


i 62 


The Scozcrge of Damascus. 


from those early years the two have been always 
together. In the beginning Hobaddan was the 
guide and protector ; but in the later years, since 
Julian has reached the age and strength of 
maturity, my son has been content to call him 
master.” 

‘‘Julian is much feared in Damascus,” said 
Ulin. 

“The king fears him,” returned Ezabel, quickly ; 
“and he has occasion for fear; but no poor man 
fears him. However, I will not take it upon 
myself to excuse Julian’s faults. He may have 
sinned ; he may have pursued his revenge too far. 
Let those who have suffered what he has suffered 
condemn him if they can.” 

“ He has suffered much, good mother?” 

“ More than I can tell, my child.” 

“ He is of Damascus born ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And — perhaps — of honored family ?” 

“The blood which runs in his veins is as pure 
and noble as ever supported a human life. The 
king himself cannot boast a nobler origin; aye,” 
continued Ezabel, with startling earnestness, “ and 
even now, with the whole story of his life up to 
this present hour, stamped upon his brow, he is 
nobler, and better, and purer, than the lords of 
Damascus. He is a man, and his heart is true ; 
and I love him for the generous, devoted love 
there is in his soul.” 

Ulin bowed her head upon her hands ; and could 
the instinctive promptings of her heart at that 


Dreams. 


163 


moment have been read, they would have revealed 
a secret not much to be wondered at. 

‘‘ I think," said Ezabel, after a pause, ‘‘ that you 
have had some opportunity to study Julian’s, char- 
acter." 

[ have seen enough to assure me that he is a 
noble, generous man," returned Ulin, raising her 
head. 

‘‘And," added Ezabel, “if you could know him 
better you would find your impressions strength- 
ened. But he will not be here long. As soon as he 
recovers from his wound he will leave us." 

“ If I am not mistaken," ventured our heroine, 
“ Julian is at home in this place." 

“ Most certainly he is, my daughter. From his 
earliest childhood he knew no other home but this." 

“ And he was on his way hither when he overtook 
me in the hands of the Arabs ?" 

“ Yes." 

“ And will my presence cause him to leave you ?" 

“I think not, lady. But you will give yourself no 
uneasiness on that account. If Julian feels that he 
had better be away from you, he will go for his own 
sake. And, remember — the truly noble soul finds 
joy in the generous sacrifices which it may be called 
upon to make. I hear Ben Hadad’s voice. He is 
calling me.” 

She arose and left the chamber ; and when she 
returned she was followed by Ben Hadad. Now 
that Ulin saw the hermit by the light of the day she 
was awe-struck by his venerable appearance. All 
that could be noble and honorable and lovable in 


164 The Scourge of Damascus, 


old age seemed combined in him ; and as he bent 
his gaze upon her, and extended his hand in wel- 
come, she felt her heart go out to him with all its 
trust and confidence. 

‘‘ My child,"' he said, in tones of tenderest solicitude, 
‘‘ Ezabel has told to me your story, and I have come 
to bid you an affectionate welcome to my cave. Rest 
here, and feel that you are at home. Your mother 
paid me for this long ago. Come — follow me to 
where the air is fresher, and where the sunbeams can 
greet you." 

Tlie maiden thanked Ben Hadad as well as she 
was able, and then arose to follow him. He led her 
to the main cave, where she found Hobaddan and 
the eunuchs. It was a spacious apartment, wild 
and grotesque in fashion, and furnished with every- 
thing that was needed for simple comfort and con- 
venience. After looking about her for awhile, and 
seeking a few words with Hobaddan, the lady fol- 
lowed the hermit out into the grove in front of the 
cave. It was a charming place, and one in which Ulin 
thought she could be ever contented to live. The 
river rolled its silver flood along at no great distance 
and birds of sweetest voice filled the perfumed air 
with music. Flowers of every hue greeted the eye, 
and the most tempting fruits were ripe for the taste. 

“ This is my home," said the old man, as he led 
the maiden to a seat ; “and here have I lived for 
more years than go to fill up the allotted age of man. 
All these trees and shrubs I have trained up from 
the tender sprout, and these vines I have taught to 
clothe the gray old rocks. And I have been most 


D^'^eams, 


165 


fortunate in my life. I have been able to protect 
many who needed protection, and my days have 
been lengthened out to protect yet more.’' 

Ulin was touched by the deep pathos of the 
hermit’s words, and for a whole hour she sat and 
listened to his conversation. At the end of that 
time he led her back into the cave, where Ortok, the 
black slave, had prepared dinner. She did not feel 
hungry, but she sat down with Ben Hadad, and 
Hobadden, and Ezabel — she and Albia — and par- 
took with them. 

Thus passed three days ; and Ulin had become so 
used to the place that it already seemed like home. 
She had learned to love the hermit ; and she had 
learned to love Ezabel ; and she had learned to 
respect and esteem the stout-hearted Hobaddan, and 
to converse with him freely. Once she asked the 
lieutenant what had become of Julian’s band. Would 
they not be seeking him ? 

And he explained to her that he had communicated 
with them — that they knew of their chieftain’s 
safety, and had gone away into the mountains of . 
Lebanon, where comfortable abiding places for them 
were plenty. 

On the evening of this third day, Ben Hadad sat 
with Ulin in the grove. 

“ My child,” he said, after relating to her some 
interesting episode of his life, ‘‘you have told me 
that the only plan you had for the future was to 
remain away from Damascus until the king was 
dead. Have you thought what might be the feel- 
ings of your father T 


1 66 The Scourge of Damascus, 


‘‘I have thought much of my father,” replied the 
maiden, frankly ; “ but I cannot separate him from 
the king while the king lives. As I do to the king 
for the time, so must I do unto my father. I know 
that my father had set his heart upon my being 
queen of Damascus ; and I know that he would not 
favor me in the matter. He is a stern man, and the 
will of Horam is his law.” 

“And do you miss your father, my child ?” 

“ That cannot well be,” answered Ulin. “ He was 
never with me enough to make his presence a thing 
to be looked for. Until I was grown up I hardly 
knew him. I have seen him more since my mother 
died than in all the years before. I respect and 
honor him, and shall hope for his forgiveness in the 
time to come ; but fear of his wrath could not move 
me to give my soul to lasting misery. I trust that 
I do no great wrong in this.” 

“ No,” said the hermit — “ it cannot be. I asked 
the question, not to touch upon your duty, but only 
to learn if the simple absence of your father left a 
void in your joy. I am well aware, sweet child, that 
Aboul Cassem is but an echo, in his opinions, of the 
will of his royal master ; and, under the circum- 
stances, escape from him was as necessary to your 
welfare as escape from the king. I understand and 
appreciate your feelings, and am glad, for your sake, 
that you feel as you do.” 

It was growing late, and as the dew began to fall, 
Ben Hadad led the maiden back into the cave. She 
stopped at the entrance, and asked concerning Julian 


Dreams. 


167 


— asked in a low, tremulous tone, and with her face 
in the shade. 

He is almost well,” replied the hermit ; “ and on 
the morrow he will be out to see us.” 

** He has been very weak, father V 
“ No, — not very.” 

But he has been confined to his bed ?” 

‘‘ O, no. He has walked out, though mostly in the 
cool of the evening. He has preferred not to be 
with us until he was once more himself. He is 
strong now, my child ; and you will see him on the 
morrow, as proud and erect as ever.” 

When Ulin retired to her own apartment she sat 
by herself, with her head bowed upon her hands, 
taking no notice of her serving-maid. At an early 
hour she retired ; but it was a long time ere she 
slept ; and when she did sleep she was troubled with 
strange dreams. She dreamed of the unfortunate 
Helena, and awoke with a cry of pain. And then 
she dreamed a more pleasant dream — a dream of 
something that had haunted her waking thoughts — 
a dream of the Scourge of Damascus. 



CHAPTER XV. 

SOMETHING MORE THAN A DREAM. 

On the following morning, when Ulin entered the 
main cave, Julian was there to greet her. She 
extended her hand to him, and smiled as she spoke. 
The youthful chieftain was somewhat pale, but his 
large, lustrous eyes burned with a deeper intensity, 
and the white brow offered a strange contrast to the 
waving masses of golden hair. The maiden’s smile 
faded away when she met the earnest gaze that was 
fixed upon her, and her hand trembled before she 
withdrew it. He spoke to her a few words of cheer ; 
expressed his gratitude that she had found a place 
of safety ; and hoped that the future might have no 
more clouds for her. She thanked him for his kind 
wishes ; and shortly afterwards they were summoned 
to breakfast. 

“ O, my mistress,” cried Albia, when she and Ulin 
were alone, ‘‘how noble a man he is !” 

“Who?” asked the princess, starting out from a 
deep reverie. 

“Julian, I mean,” returned the maid, quickly and 


Something More Tha 7 i a Dream. 169 


with enthusiasm. Does he not look handsomer 
than ever ?’' 

Ulin bowed her head, and made no reply. 

Is he not beautiful to gaze upon T pursued 
Albia, without seeming to notice her lady’s abstracted 
mood. 

“ Hush, Albia, say no more now. I am busy with 
my own thoughts.” 

“ Pardon, sweet mistress. I meant no wrong. I 
thought — we owed him so much — and he has suffered 
in our behalf — that you might — ” 

“ Albia, say no more. I know you meant well. 
You mistake me if you think I am not grateful. 
There — say no more. I love you, and would not 
hurt your feelings. Go out into the grove, and walk 
awhile.” 

Ulin bowed her head again as she spoke, with her 
hand upon her brow — upon her brow for a moment 
— and then pressed upon her bosom. And thus Albia 
left her. 

When the freed girl reached the grove in front of 
the cave, she found Julian and Osmir in close con- 
versation, and before they noticed her, she had heard 
enough to excite her curiosity ; and with a freedom 
that was natural to her, she asked them what had 
happened. 

“Osmir thinks,” said Julian, with a smile, “ that 
one of the Arab robbers has followed us, and tracked 
us to this place ; but I laugh at him.” 

“I may be mistaken,” rejoined the eunuch, “but 
still I think I am right. I have seen the fellow 
twice ; once by the river, at the entrance of the 


I /O The Scourge of Damascus, 


wood, and once further away. It was one of the 
rascals who escaped us.” 

‘‘ And, if it is the Arab, what can he want ?” asked 
Albia. 

‘•If it be one of those fellows,” returned Julian, 
“ he may wish to join our ranks.” 

“ Or,” added Osmir, “ he may hope to steal some- 
thing.” 

“Very likely,” assented the chieftain. “However,” 
he continued, after a brief pause, “ we may as well 
keep a sharp lookout.” 

“Selim and I are on the watch,” said Osmir ; “and 
if we catch the rascal, we’ll secure him.” 

Albia fancied that Julian had thoughts which he 
was not willing to express in her presence, but she 
did not mean to fret herself ; and before she rejoined 
her mistress she had almost forgotten the circum- 
stances. 

At noon, and again in the evening, did Ulin meet 
with Julian ; but they did not converse freely 
together. She could not meet the gaze of those lus- 
trous eyes without trembling, and she sought to 
avoid that which so much moved her. If he had 
approached her, and spoken freely with her on some 
subject of general interest, she would have joined him 
readily ; but he did not do so. As her eyes sank for 
the second time before his gaze, he turned away and 
left the cave. 

Morning came again, and again the maiden met 
the man who had saved her from the Arabs. This 
time he greeted her in few words, and soon turned 
away to speak with Hobaddan. He did not seem 


Something More Than a Dream. 171 


well. He looked paler than on the day before, and 
there was an expression of pain about the mouth and 
eyes. Ulin was uneasy. Perhaps his wound was 
giving him new trouble. As soon as the morning’s 
meal had been eaten, she sought Ezabel, and asked 
her if Julian was suffering from his wound. 

No,” replied the old woman ; “I do not think 
it is his wound. I have noticed his appearance, and 
have asked him what it meant ; but he puts me off 
with a smile and a blessing, and tries to assure me 
that all is well. I do not like to see him suffer. He 
is like a child to me, and I love him tenderly. Ah, 
the world little knows what a noble, generous soul 
dwells within that manly form.” 

‘‘ If I thought he was suffering on my account,” 
said Ulin, ‘‘ I should be most unhappy.” 

*‘How on your account?” returned Ezabel, 
quickly. 

I mean in consequence of the wound he received 
while fighting for my deliverance.” 

hardly think it is that. Something beside the 
wound troubles him. It may be that the short cap- 
tivity in Damascus worries him. He may have 
heard something there that gives him unpleasant 
thought.” 

At noon Julian did not appear when the rest eat 
their dinner. He was out by the river. Late in the 
afternoon Ulin met Ezabel again, and the latter 
seemed sad and dejected. 

“Julian is going to leave us,” exclaimed the 
woman, in answer to an inquiry from Ulin. 

“ Leave us 1” repeated our heroine, with a start. 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


I 72 


“ Yes ; so he told me only an hour since.” 

‘When will he go ?” 

Early in the morning. * 

“ But he will shortly return ?” 

“ I fear not. I asked him that, and he only shook 
his head.” 

“ Does he give any reason for his going away ?” 

“None that you need to know, my child. In fact, 
he gives me no reason directly. I am left to draw 
my conclusions from accidental remarks.” 

When Ulin retired to her chamber she was in a 
frame of mind not easily analyzed. She spoke to 
Albia concerning the chieftain’s unexpected depart- 
ure, and the girl expressed the opinion that he felt 
himself to be in the way. 

“ What do you mean by that ?” asked Ulin. 

“ Why,” replied Albia, “ I think Julian feels that 
there are enough dwellers in the hermit’s cave with- 
out him. I may be mistaken ; but his manner, for a 
day or two past, has seemed to indicate that he was 
not perfectly at ease here.” 

The princess asked no more questions, but busied 
herself with her own thoughts. 

As the sun was sinking from its daily course, Ulin 
wandered out into the grove alone, and as she 
approached the spot where she sometimes sat with the 
hermit, she saw Julian, seated upon a bench beneath 
an orange tree. At first she thought of turning back, 
and retracing her steps ; but an impulse which was 
no result of her will, but rather an instinctive emo- 
tion, as though some secret force, led heron ; and 
almost before she was aware of it, she came so near 


Soviet king More Than a Dream, 173 


that the youth heard her stop, and looked up. He 
started when he saw her, and a flash of joy, like a 
quick passage of sunlight, was upon his face. In a 
moment, however, the look was gone, and a shade of 
sadness succeeded. The maiden could not now have 
withdrawn even had she been so disposed in the first 
place. Following the strong impulse, she advanced 
to the shadow of the orange tree, and placed her 
hand upon Julian's shoulder. A timid, trembling 
touch it was ; and it thrilled the youth like an elec- 
tric shock. 

“ Kind sir," she said, scarcely able to speak above 
a whisper when she commenced, Ezabel tells me 
you are going away.” 

‘‘ Yes, lady,” replied Julian, rising as he spoke ; I 
have so determined.” 

“ And you go soon T* 

In the morning.” 

“This is sudden, sir.” 

“ No, lady ; no more so than my movements are 
apt to be.” 

Ulin hesitated and trembled, and finally sat down 
upon the bench from which the chieftain had arisen. 
In a few moments she had recovered herself so that 
she could speak without faltering. 

“ Good sir, I have one question to ask you.” She 
went on hurriedly, as though the old impulse still 
led her : “You had not planned to leave the cave so 
soon ?” 

“ I had planned nothing about it, lady.” 

“ But — if I had not been here, with my servant, 
you would have remained longer ?” 


174 Scourge of Damascus. 


Lady, do not ask me such questions.” 

“I must ask them, sir, for I wish to know. If I 
thought that my presence here had caused you to 
leave your old home, I should be most unhappy. 
When I came here I did not know how near and 
dear this place was to you. If one of us must go, 
let me find some other resting place.” 

Julian gazed into the maiden’s face for some 
moments* in silence, and the emotions that stirred 
within him, if his features spoke truly, were strange 
and tumultuous. Finally he sat down by her side, 
and presently said : 

** Lady, you know not what you say. If you went 
from here, whither would you go ? But with me it is 
different. I have friends in many places. Among 
the hardy mountaineers of the Lebanon I can find 
a safe retreat.” 

‘‘Ah, sir,” cried Ulin, “ you do not deny my prop- 
osition.” 

“ What proposition !” 

“ Wherein I say that you leave this place because 
I am here.’' 

“ Beware, lady,” said the young chieftain. “ I 
cannot speak falsely, even to hide that which I would 
not have you know.” 

“ And why should you speak falsely ? O, sir, do 
not let me feel that I have driven you away from 
your rest. I owe you too much. I should be happy 
no more.” 

“ Lady !’' 

You will not go, sir." 

“ Lady — Ulin — you know not what you ask. 


Something More Than a D 7 ^eam, 175 


What can I be to you ! My very presence here is a 
burden to you.” 

“ How ? — a burden !” 

‘‘ Yes. You are forced to avoid me — to be uneasy 
when I am near — to drop your eyes and turn from 
me.” 

O, good, kind sir,” cried Ulin, resting her hand 
upon his arm, you misjudge me — indeed you do. 
Say, rather, that I am the one who is avoided. Say 
that you avoid me. My presence has kept you from 
the cave, and it has kept you from the board at 
meal-times. This is what troubles me — what makes 
me unhappy. What is it, sir ?” 

‘‘ Lady — beware ! Urge me not thus.'* 

But, sir,” pursued the maiden, led on by that 
same impulse — led on as is the traveler who forces 
his way through a tangled thicket with his eyes 
closed — I cannot forget how much I owe you. I 
cannot forget that I have blessed you, and that I 
have prayed that the blessing might be lasting. It 
must not be that you are now to suffer through me.” 

Julian started, and trembled like an aspen. A 
moment it was so, and then he turned upon the 
maiden a look so earnest and so deep, and so full of 
tumultuous feeling, that she shook beneath it. 

“Lady,” he said, speaking almost in a whisper, 
“ you shall know the secret which I had purposed 
never to reveal to mortal being. The words are 
forced from me. Let me speak them now; and then 
let them be forgotten. When I heard that the king 
of Damascus had shut up a fair maiden within the 
Palace of Lycanius, and that he meant to make that 


176 The Scourge of Damascus. 


maiden his wife, I felt my heart grow sick within 
me, and I resolved, if the fair one was held against 
her will, that I would set her free. I led my brave 
men to the place, and overcame the guard which the 
king had set. And then I met the lady Ulin. The 
vision was one of heaven. The wildest dreams of 
beauty were more than realized. I felt my heart 
throb with emotions such as I had never felt before; 
and for the first time in my life I knew what it was to 
love. But I had the strength to arouse myself from 
the dream, and I left you — left you never expecting 
to see you again. I left you, thinking that you would 
very soon become the wife of my enemy. I thought 
that I should soon forget you ; or, at least, that I 
should remember you only as a bright vision that 
had for a brief moment flitted before me. But it 
was not so to be. The blessed image would not be 
torn from my heart, and I was forced to suffer such 
bereavement as only a lover can know. Bear with 
me, lady. Let me speak yet a little while.’* 

Ulin did not look up ; she did not move. She sat, 
with her head bowed, and her hands folded upon 
her bosom. 

‘‘ In a few short days,** continued Julian, hurried on 
by feelings which he sought no longer to control, I 
was caught in a carefully prepared trap, and deliv- 
ered into the hands of the king. When the hour 
seemed darkest, and when all hope was gone, deliv- 
erance came. The same hands that had helped to 
lead me into the prison led me forth to liberty ; and 
not far away I met my faithful Hobaddan ; and 
from him I learned that the princess Ulin had given 


Somethmg More Than a Dream, 177 


me the blessing of the new life. I cannot tell you 
what I then felt. I can only tell that I blessed the 
sweet angel, and felt her image more deeply graven 
upon my heart than before. But I should never see 
her again. So I then thought. 

“ Ah — how strange are the works of the Invisi- 
ble ! Once again, when the expectation of such an 
event was far from me, I met the beautiful being 
who had thus enchained me. This time she needed 
my aid ; and had I possessed a thousand lives I 
could have given them all for her welfare. I saved 
her from the hands of the greedy Arab, and bore 
her to the place of rest she sought. I was with 
her again, and once more her voice sounded in my 
ear, and her smile beamed upon me. Heaven was 
opened, but in the blessed realm I was offered no 
abiding place. I saw the loved spirit of light within 
the cave which had been the home of my child- 
hood ; but my love I dared not speak. How could 
I, the enemy of Damascus, and the branded rob- 
ber, tell my love to the daughter of the king’s prime 
minister ? 

“ Lady, I dare not trouble you more. If I have 
offended you in this, I can only ask that you will 
pardon me. You now know why I go away. To 
remain here would be madness. I cannot do it. 
My heart would break. In the time to come, when 
you think of Julian, you will do so in kindness, and 
forget not the prayer of blessing ; for the sweetest 
thought of the coming loneliness will be, that Ulin 
sometimes murmurs my name in prayer. And now, 


178 The Scourge of Damascus. 


lady, permit me this one privilege, and I leave you 
forever !’* 

He had taken her hand, and was raising it to his 
lips ; but she suddenly drew it from him. 

No ! no ! no I” she murmured. 

Pardon, lady. I meant no offence.” The tone 
was one of grief. 

‘‘Oh — Julian ! Julian ! Leave me not yet !” 

She rested her freed hand upon his arm, and 
gazed up into his face. Her eyes were streaming 
with tears and her bosom heaved convulsively. 

“ Lady — Ulin !” 

“Julian! — O, in this hour of helplessness and 
need I turn to thee with all my trust and faith. If 
the love of this poor heart is worth thy cherishing, 
take it, and keep it always. I have no power — I 
have no choice. The light of thy face, beaming in 
love upon me, reveals to me that I am bound to 
thee by chains which I cannot break 1” 

She rested her head upon his bosom ; and he, 
winding his stout arms about her, pressed her to his 
heart as a treasure the most precious that earth 
could bestow. 

The sun sank to its evening rest, and the shades 
of twilight deepened over the river and over the 
grove. The stars came out, one by one, in their 
celestial stations, and anon the silver moon, lifting 
its face above the hills of Hobah, cast its soft light 
into the vale. Still the lovers sat beneath the orange 
tree ; and there they might have sat late into the 
night, had not Osmir come to interrupt them. 

What did the eunuch want, at that hour, and in 


Something More Thari a Dream, 179 


that place ? He sought his master. Julian arose 
and went to him, and they whispered hurriedly 
together ; and Ulin was sure that she heard the 
Arabs mentioned. 

Ulin,” said the chieftain, coming back, and taking 
her hand, ‘‘ you must go with me to the cave. I am 
called in another direction.” 

What is it ? You tremble. Ah, Julian — there is 
danger !” 

No. no, sweet love ; harbor not that fear. I go 
to ward off danger. O, I have something more than 
life to care for now.” 

At this point Selim came running up, all out of 
breath ; but before he could speak his master 
stopped him. 

‘‘ I understand, good Selim. Osmir has told 
me — 

‘‘ But — my master — ” 

In a moment. Wait till I come back.'* 

And thus speaking, Julian led the maiden to the 
cave. 

“ Excuse me, now,” he said, raising her hand to 
hia lips. ‘‘ I will be back shortly. You will not fear.” 

Ulin watched him until he had disappeared, and 
then turned and entered the cave ; but she could not 
put away her fear. There was something wrong. 
Those Arabs had done some mischief. She was sure 
of it. She trembled with apprehension, but not for 
herself. Ah, no, — there was now another — a loved 
one — for whom she trembled ; and the more she 
reflected, the more strongly did she become convinced 
that there was danger at hand. 



CHAPTER XVL 
A king's story. 

The first person whom Ulin met after entering 
the cave was Ezabel, who stood by a table upon 
which a lamp was burning. 

My dear child, I was just coming in search of 
you. We were anxious. What — have you been in 
tears ? Ulin, what is it ? What has happened ?” 

The maiden, in memory of the great event of the 
evening, forgot the cause of fear that had been with 
her. It was a secret she could not keep — a secret 
she had no wish to keep ; and resting her head upon 
Ezabel’s shoulder, she told the story of her love. 

“ Dearest Ulin," said the aged matron, kissing the 
maiden upon the brow, “he is worthy of the trust 
5^ou have reposed in him !" 

Aye," added a voice by their side. ^‘A nobler, 
truer love never burned in human soul than warms 
the heart of Julian !" 

Ulin looked up, and beheld the white-haired 
hermit ; and as he extended his hand, she took it in 
both her own. 

Bless you, sweet child !" he prayed “ Bless you 


A King's Story. i8i 


forever ! And may the love you have confessed 
prove the source of lasting joy !” 

At that moment Albia came in from the grove 
where she had been in search of her mistress ; and 
very soon she, too, had heard the story. She gazed 
into Ulin’s face a moment, and then, while a tear 
glistened in her eye, she murmured : 

“ I shall be very happy now, for henceforth I can 
serve and love you both !” 

As Albia spoke, and before any reply could be 
made, Julian came hurrying into the cave. He was 
much excited, and Ben Hadad saw a fear upon his 
face such as had never been seen there before. 

“ My son,” spoke the hermit, what means this? 
Your manner betokens danger.” 

And there is danger,” cried the young chieftain, 
moving instinctively to Ulin’s side. “ I fear that I 
have been much to blame. I should have been 
warned by the words of Osmir and Selim. Those 
two Arabs have evidently discovered our abiding 
place.” 

“ Well — and what then ?” asked Ben Hadad. 

I think they have brought a large force against 

us.” 

‘‘ What — of Arabs ? Do they mean to rob us ?” 

Perhaps,” suggested Albia, they hope to recap- 
ture what they have lost.” 

Ulin moved to Julian’s side, and leaned upon his 
stout arm. He kissed her upon the brow, and bade 
her be of good courage ; and then he said to the 
others, in answer to what had been suggested : 

“I fear the truth has not yet been hit. If the 


i 82 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


Arabs are coming, as I apprehend, there may be 
another solution to the problem. Those two rascals 
who escaped us could easily have followed us to this 
place. We were not looking for such a thing, and 
so did not guard against it. They knew that the 
maiden who had been snatched from them was the 
daughter of the king’s prime minister ; and may 
they not have known that she was the king’s 
affianced ? At all events, it is not unreasonable to 
suppose that they may have anticipated some gain 
of reward b}^ carrying intelligence to Aboul Cassem. 
If they have done this, then they must also have 
revealed the whereabouts of the Scourge of 
Damascus.” 

A low cry of pain from Ulin told how directly 
the fear had touched her ; and again her lover 
sought to calm her. 

‘‘ We must leave this place,” he said, and seek 
shelter in the wood. You and I and Albia will go, 
and the eunuchs will join us outside. I know where 
there is safety, so have no fear. Should the rascals 
come, they will not harm these old people ; they 
will not dare to do it.” 

Ulin had drawn a mantle about her shoulders, 
and Julian had turned to speak apart with Ben 
Hadad, when Osmir came rushing into the cave, with 
terror depicted most painfully upon his ebon fea- 
tures. 

‘‘ They are coming !’' he cried. They aave 
sprung upon us from a hidden cover.” 

Who are coming .>” 


A King 's Story, 


183 


“ They are the king’s soldiers, led by the captain, 
Benoni !” 

On the next instant the clash of arms was heard 
at the entrance, and Shubal came staggering in, 
faint and bleeding. 

“ Back, back, sweet love,” said Julian, gently 
pushing the maiden towards her chamber. “There 
may yet be hope.” 

He grasped a sword as he spoke, and leaped 
towards the entrance ; but he was too late. Already 
a score of armed men were rushing in, a number 
of them bearing flaming torches in their hands. 

‘‘ Come, good Osmir,” the chieftain cried, bracing 
himself for the work. “ Capture for us is certain 
death. We can do no better than to sell our lives 
here.” 

One — two — three — four of the royal soldiers fell 
beneath the lightning-like strokes of Julian’s tren- 
chant blade ; and in the same time Osmir had slain 
two ; but it was not in the roll of fate that two were 
to overcome the force that came pouring into the 
cave. A flaming torch was hurled upon the chief- 
tain, and while he staggered beneath the blinding 
stroke he was drawn over backwards, and his arms 
quickly pinioned. The next movement was to 
secure Ulin and Albia, after which Ben Hadad and 
Ezabel were taken. 

“ Will you lay violent hands upon me ?” demanded 
the hermit. 

“I am ordered to bring you all before the king,” 
replied Benoni ; “ all whom I might find in this 
cave. I mean to offer you no harm, so if you have 


184 The Scourge of Dmnasctis. 


complaint to make, save it for those who command 
me.’^ 

While the captain was searching other apartments, 
to see if more prisoners were to be found, Julian 
felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and on looking 
up he beheld the Israelite, Judah. 

“ So, my noble chieftain, you are fast once more. 
The eunuch played us false, it seems, and I came 
near losing my head in consequence ; but my royal 
master will pardon me when he sees you again.” 

Julian’s first impulse was to spurn the fellow from 
him ; but as that could only answer a petty spite 
against one who had done no more than was his 
duty, he put back the feeling, and resolved that he 
would, if possible, gain some information from the 
man. 

‘‘Once again a prisoner,” he said ; “and I do not 
wonder that I was captured when I count the num- 
ber who were arrayed against me. But, Judah, I 
would like to know how your captain came so 
directly upon me.” 

The Israelite, who had evidently expected a far 
different reception, seemed to feel sorry that he had 
spoken so unfeelingly to the gallant prisoner; and, 
as though in some measure of amendment therefor, 
he answered, frankly : 

“ It all came about naturally enough. When you 
rescued the lady Ulin from the Arabs, two of the 
rascals escaped your sword by flight ; but they did 
not flee far. They were shrewd enough to imagine 
that the daughter of the prime minister might be 
wanted at Damascus ; so one of them hung upon 


A King's Story, 


185 


your track, while the other hastened to Damascus to 
gather information. The latter not only learned of 
the lady’s flight from her father, but also of the 
escape of the renowned robber chieftain. In the 
meantime the fellow who followed you had dis- 
covered the place of your retreat ; and when the two 
companions met, they were not long in arranging 
their plans. Their reward from the king will be 
ample. I only wonder that you suffered yourself to 
remain in this place.” 

“ It may have been from the force of habit,” 
returned Julian. “Still,” he added, “they never 
would have sought me here if accident Jiad not guided 
them. I could have been in no safer place, apart 
from that.” 

At this juncture the captain returned from his 
search, and the prisoners were soon arranged for 
moving. Ulin and Albia were taken out first, and 
sent on in advance. Then followed Julian, in charge 
of four stout men ; then came Ben Hadad and Eza- 
bel ; and, lastly, came the eunuchs. And thus the 
soldiers and their prisoners filed out from the grove 
— out through the deep wood — out into the bright 
moonlight that bathed the broad plain. 

A sad close this, for the day of love ! 

4: ^ 

The king of Damascus had grown very old and 
very sour within those last few days. Rage and 
chagrin had so shaken his frame that he seemed 
stricken with palsy ; and his voice, from its bowlings 


1 86 The Scourge of Damascus. 


and meanings, had become hoarse and cracked. But 
he had promise of sweet revenge. His soldiers were 
upon the track of the fugitives, and he believed they 
would bring them back. O, how he would gloat 
over the sufferings of his victims when they came 
within his power ! 

I tell thee, About Cassem,’* he said, addressing 
his minister, the fair, frail Ulin must suffer for this. 
She is no longer your child ; I shall not regard her 
as such.*’ 

About bowed his head, and answered that he was 
content. 

Late in the day a courier arrived at the royal 
palace with intelligence that Omar, King of Aleppo, 
was nigh unto the city, and would rest with Horam 
for awhile. 

“ By the gods !” cried Horam, clasping his hands, 

Omar was with me when my first wife fell in crime ; 
and he shall be with me now to behold this last deed 
of vengeance ! Let the guard be mustered, and see 
to it that our royal brother is fitly received.” 

As the shades of evening gathered over the city, 
the King of Aleppo arrived, and was received in 
regal pomp. He was warmly welcomed by Horam, 
and conducted at once to apartments of state, while 
his numerous retinue was disposed of as befitted the 
rank of the different individuals. 

Omar was very near of the same age with Horam ; 
but he was like him in nothing else. He was large 
of frame ; portly and upright in person ; with che 
flush of health upon his face, and the vigor of youth 
in his step. After refreshments had been served, the 


A K ing 's Story . 


187 


two kings retired to a closet for conversation. Some- 
thing was said upon the subject of the government, 
and upon the affairs of other nations ; and finally 
they came upon matters nearer home. Omar could 
not help noticing that his friend was in trouble, and 
he took the liberty to ask what had gone wrong. 

‘‘Alas!” cried Horam, “ everything goes wrong.” 
And he told how he had put away all his wives for 
the daughter of Aboul Cassem, and how she had 
betrayed him, and fled from him. And then he told 
how he had once captured his dreaded enemy, the 
Scourge of Damascus, and how the prize had slipped 
through his fingers by means of the treachery of his 
slaves. 

“By my life,” exclaimed Omar, “you have been 
most sorely afflicted.” 

“ But the worst is yet to be told,” pursued Horam, 
clenching his hands, and gnashing his teeth. “ The 
robber and the lady Ulin went off on the same night, 
and I have every reason to believe that she corrupted 
my slaves to set him free. In fact, I am sure she 
did.” 

“Then this robber is young and good-looking?” 

“ Aye — a perfect man in form and feature.” 

“ And I think you said that the lady Ulin had seen 
him before.” 

“Yes. While she was in the Palace of the Valley, 
the robber went there to set her free, thinking, prob- 
ably, that she was there. under restraint.” 

“Well, well,” said Omar, after some little reflec- 
tion, “ though things have gone badly for you, they 
have, after all, gone as we might expect.” 


1 88 The Scourge of Damascus, 


“Aye — you speak truly there,” cried Horam. “L 
was a fool to trust the maiden. But I shall have 
sweet revenge. I think they will be all within my 
power by to-morrow. O, Omar, you have known 
much of my sorrow. I have grown old since we last 
met — very old. In years I am but the passing of two 
harvests ahead of you ; but in trial and trouble I 
have left you far behind. The last time you were in 
Damascus the first great trial of my life came upon 
me. You remember it.” 

“ Of what do you speak ?” 

“ Why — of my wife — of the first wife I ever had — 
of her whom I made my queen.” 

“ Do you mean the lady Helena ?” 

“To be sure I do. Mercy! have you forgot- 
ten ?” 

“ No,” said Omar, shaking his head ; “ I remember 
Helena very well. She was the most beautiful 
woman I ever saw.” 

“ And as false as.she was beautiful,” added Horam. 

“ Is it possible ? I did not think she would come 
to that.” 

“ How !” exclaimed the king of Damascus. “ Does 
your memory fail you ?” • 

What mean you, Horam ? My memory is good.” 

“ Then why do you wonder when I speak of the 
faithlessness of my first queen ? Was it not your- 
self that gave to me the proofs of her infidelity ? 
Did you not show to me that she had fallen ?” 

“ You speak in riddles,” said the king of Aleppo. 
“ I remember that we once suspected the young 


A King's Story, 


189 


queen of bestowing her love upon a captain of your 
guard — I think his name was Jabal.” 

“ Yes/’ responded Horam. Jabal was the man ; 
and I slew himo It was your evidence that con- 
victed both him and Helena.” 

‘‘ And was the queen guilty after that ?” 

‘‘ Guilty after that ?” repeated Horam, slowly and 
irresolutely. What mean you ? Do you imagine 
that I allowed her to live to commit more crime 

“ In mercy’s name,” cried Omar, what do you 
mean by this speech ? Do you remember Sanballad 
and Ben Huram ?” 

*‘Yes/' replied Horam. “They were two of my 
chamberlains, who accompanied you to Aleppo at 
the time of which we have spoken.” 

“ No,” said Omar, “ they did not quite go to 
Aleppo. I sent them back before I reached my capi- 
tal, They brought to you my message?” 

“ I never saw them again after they went away 
with you,” returned Horam. 

“ Never — saw — them. Good spirits of mercy ! 

Are you in earnest, Horam ?” 

“ Aye. If they started on their return, they must 
have been lobbed and killed, for I never saw them 
after they left in your retinue.” 

The King of Aleppo clasped his hands in agony. 

“ O, Horam! Horam!” he exclaimed, “what a 
fearful mistake was that ! Bear with me — forgive 
me !” 

“What is it, Omar ?” 

“Your beautiful queen was innocent!” 


190 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


I 71710 cent r gasped Horam, starting to his feet, 
and then sinking back again. 

“Yes, my brother,’' replied Omar, in trembling 
tones; “ she was as innocent as in that natal hour 
when first she rested upon her mother’s bosom. At 
Balbec we found a woman whom some of my offi- 
cers brought before me supposing her to be the 
queen of Damascus. She was very beautiful, and so 
nearly did she resemble the queen, Helena, that even 
I was at first deceived. ‘Her name was Jasmin, and 
she told me that she had just fled from Damascus 
and was waiting for her lover to join her. She said 
that Jabal was her lover, and that he was a captain 
of Horam’s guard. The truth flashed upon me in a 
moment. I conversed with her until I had gained 
her whole story ; and then I knew that your queen 
was innocent. It was all proved to me, as clear as 
the sun at noonday. At first I had a thought of 
returning myself, and bearing to you the joyful tid- 
ings ; but business urged me on, and I sent Sanbal- 
lad and Ben Huram.” 

“And they did not come !” uttered Horam, with 
his hands working nervously in his bosom. “ They 
did not come — and my queen died.” 

“ God forgive me!” ejaculated Omar. “ I would 
have given my own life — Horam 1” 

The King of Damascus had started to his feet 
and fallen over upon the floor. The shock had 
found him already shattered, and his senses had 
failed beneath it. Omar lifted the lifeless form to a 
couch, and then called for the attendants to come 
and assist him in caring for their unfortunate master. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE EXECUTIONERS. 

Horam returned to consciousness during the night, 
and on the following morning he was able to attend 
to such matters of business as his officers found it 
necessary to bring before him. At an early hour he 
sent for Omar, who soon answered the call. 

“ I have one word to say — one request to make,” 
said Horam, after the morning’s greetings had 
passed. I wish you once more to tell me the story 
of Helena’s innocence, and thenceforth to remain 
silent upon the subject. I may have dreamed some 
of the things that now startle my thoughts ; for I 
am not clear at what point you left me last night.” 

Thus called upon, the king of Aleppo related all 
that he had told on the previous evening, and then 
made some further explanation of incidents which 
he had not before revealed. It was a plain, simple 
statement, bearing the stamp of truth upon every 
word. 

O !” groaned Horam, clasping his thin hands 
together, “what would I give to call Helena back to 
life ! But it cannot be. She is gone — and she was 
innocent T* 



192 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


He started up from his seat, and walked several 
times across the floor ; and when he next approached 
his royal guest, he had grown calmerp and his lip 
had ceased its quivering. 

Omar, I have no blame for you. Henceforth let 
the book be sealed.*' 

He had taken one or two more turns up and down 
the apartment, when a messenger entered with 
intelligence that Benoni had arrived, and desired 
audience. 

Send him in at once. Good brother, you will 
remain with me.** This last was spoken to Omar, 
who had turned to leave. 

In a little while Benoni made his appearance, and 
Horam was sure he could see the flush of victory 
upon his brow. 

“Now, my captain, what word do you bring ?’* 

“ Good word, sire. We have captured those whom 
you desired to see, and have also brought an old 
man and old woman who resided in the cave.** 

“ Have you brought the Lady Ulin — and the 
robber chieftain — and Osmir and Selim ?*’ 

“Yes, sire.** 

“ And these others are the old hermit, Ben Hadad, 
and the woman who lives with him ?** 

“ Yes, sire.** 

“ By the crown I wear !*’ cried the monarch, leap- 
ing up and clapping his hands, “ this is enough to 
make me forget the wrongs I have suffered. Let 
the robber chieftain and the two treacherous eunuchs 
be brought before me. But — hold. There was 


The Executioners. 


193 


one other spoken of by the Arab — the lieutenant — 
Hobaddan his name was.’* 

** He was not in the cave, sire ; nor was he about 
the place.** 

“Very well. Let the chieftain be brought in.’* 

The captain retired, and presently returned, fol- 
lowed by Julian and the two eunuchs. They were 
heavily ironed, and six stout soldiers walked behind 
them. The youthful chieftain had schooled himself 
for the ordeal, and no sign of fear was manifest. 
Osmir and Selim stood like two deaf mutes, seem- 
ing to care .nothing for the fate that surely awaited 
them. 

“ That is all,” said Horam, after he had looked at 
the prisoners. “Take them out, and guard them 
well. Place twenty of your most trusty men over 
them, and remember that those twenty heads shall 
answer for the safety of the charge.” 

‘‘Shall I conduct them to a dungeon, sire 

“No, — there is no need of it. They will not live 
to behold the setting of this day’s sun !** 

When Benoni returned and reported that the rob- 
ber and the eunuchs had been disposed of according 
to orders, he was directed to bring in the old man 
and the woman. 

Ben Hadad did not tremble when he stood 
before the king; nor did Ezabel seem much 
frightened. 

“ Old man,” said Horam, “I understand that you 
have harbored and protected the notorious Scourge, 
Julian.” 


194 The Scourge of Damascus. 


He hath found shelter with me, as have all who 
ever sought it,'’ replied the hermit. 

But I have leason to believe that he hath often 
dwelt with you.” 

I do not deny it, sire.” 

‘‘ And yet you knew that he was a robber ?” 

I think I knew his true character, sire.” 

‘‘ And you have harbored others of his gang ?” 

Your majesty speaks truly.” 

“And this Julian has made your cave his home 
when he pleased ?” 

“ I never refused him.” 

“And you also harbored the lady Ulin. You 
knew who she was, and that she had fled from her 
home.” 

“ Yes.” 

I “ And perhaps you knew why she fled ?” 

“She told me her story, sire.” 

“ And you had no thought of leading her back to 
Damascus ?” 

“I had not, sire.” 

“ And this woman hath aided you in all this ?” 

“ She can speak for herself.” 

“ It is enough,” cried the king, impatiently. “ I 
wish to hear no more. You both stand condemned, 
and the degree of your punishment shall be made 
known to you soon enough. But first you shall 
witness the punishment which I will inflict upon 
another ! Take them away, Benoni, and see that 
they are strictly guarded ; and when this is done, 
return to me.” 

“ My brother,” said Horam, to the king of Aleppo, 


The Executioner. 


195 


after the prisoners had been led out, what think 
you of this ?’* , 

Upon my life, Horam, I know not what to think. 
That robber chieftain is the noblest-looking man I 
ever saw, and I do not wonder that a young maiden 
should fall in love with him. But that alters not 
the complexion of the wrong. Of the old hermit 
I have often heard ; and he has the reputation of 
being kind and just. Travelers who have shared 
his hospitality, and received tender nursing at his 
hands, are fond of praising him. Still, that does 
not undo the wrong which he hath done to you.’' 

Not at all. It rather makes it worse for him. 
A man who can be just to others should be just to 
his king. Still, I am not inclined to punish him 
with death. His extreme old age may plead some- 
what in his behalf.” 

Omar was upon the point of making some reply, 
when the captain returned. 

Now, Benoni,” said Horam, with more nervous- 
ness in his manner than he had before exhibited, I 
have a serious question to ask you ; and I desire 
that you should answer me promptly and truly. 
You have noticed the conduct of the princess Ulin ?” 

“Yes, sire." 

“ And you have had opportunity to judge some- 
what of the meaning of her conduct ?” 

“ I do not know as I understand you, sire.” 

“ My question shall enlighten you. Listen : 
From what you have seen should you judge that the 
princess loved the robber chieftain ?” 

Benoni hesitated, and trembled. 


196 The Scourge of Damascus. 


Answer me, captain.” 

Indeed, sire, you should not put that duty upon 
me. If I answer at all, I must answer the truth, and 
the truth may offend you.” 

“ No, Benoni ; you entirely misjudge me. I am 
anxious to get at the truth. Now answer me.” 

“Then, sire, I am forced to inform you that the 
lady Ulin has manifested the most lively interest in 
the robber's welfare.” 

“ You have heard her words and noticed the work- 
ings of her features T* 

“ Yes, sire.” 

“And you judge that she loves him 

“ It cannot otherwise be. A warmer love, or a 
love more devoted than that 'which the princess 
entertains towards Julian, I never saw manifested.” 

The king clenched his hands, and ground his teeth 
in rage. He started up, and strode across the floor, 
muttering by the way : 

“ It is enough ! Another hour shall not pass upon 
this unholy passion ! Where is Aboul Cassem ? 
Bring him hither at once.” 

Benoni again went out ; but he did not have to go 
far, as he met Aboul coming towards the royal 
apartment. The king greeted him as he entered, 
and asked him if he had seen his daughter. 

“Yes, sire,” replied the minister. “I have just 
left her.” 

“ Have you talked with her ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Then you must have discovered the secret which 


The Executioner, 


197 


hath been imparted to me. Did you speak with 
her of this robber chieftain T 

‘‘I did, sire.'* 

‘ Well — what did you observe ?’* 

O, mercy, sire — spare my child !” 

That is not the answer to my question, Aboul. 
I asked you what you discovered.” 

discovered,” returned the minister, in tones of 
deepest dread, that her love had been turned 
from you.” 

Aye — and upon whom ?” 

“ Upon Julian, sire.” 

That is it, Aboul,” cried the king, again starting 
up. ^‘That is the thing that enters most deeply 
into my soul. And now I will tell you what the 
girl’s punishment shall be. She shall witness the 
death of her robber lover ; she shall see his head 
severed from his body — and then she shall be shut up, 
to lead a solitary life, through the rest of her days ! 
None of her own sex shall attend upon her ; but 
black eunuchs shall be her sole companions. What 
say you to that ?” 

“I dare not say that the sentence is unjust,” 
replied the minister. 

But,” pursued the king, does not the lady Ulin 
deserve such punishment ?” 

Yes, sire.” 

Then the sooner the work is done the better. 1 
would have that Scourge out of my way as quickly 
as possible. By the sceptre I wield, the sentence 
shall be executed this very hour — aye, within this 


198 The Scourge of Damascus. 


half-hour, and within this very room. My captain, 
do you send my executioners hither/’ 

Benoni went away in obedience to this command, 
and when he returned he was followed by three 
black slaves, of giant stature, clad in blood-red gar- 
ments, and wearing ponderous swords upon their 
thighs. 

‘‘ Bel Dara.” 

As the king thus called, the chief executioner 
stepped forward. He was the largest and the most 
ferocious looking of the three — a monster whose 
nature seemed to crave the shedding of blood. 

Bel Dara, I would have you bring the largest 
mat of goat-skins, and spread it in the centre of this 
room. Bring also your basket ; and be sure that 
your sword is sharp. Aye — bring three baskets — for 
there are three heads to fall ! Away, and let your 
preparations be quickly made.” 

The executioners were not long in obeying this 
order. A large mat was brought in and spread 
upon the floor, and three stout baskets of palm-leaf 
were placed upon it. The mat and the baskets were 
darkly stained, and even Omar, used as he was to 
such scenes, shuddered when he beheld the prepara- 
tions. When all was ready, Horam turned to his 
captain and ordered that all the prisoners should be 
brought in. 

At length they came. Julian and Osmir and 
Selim came first. Then followed Ben Hadad and 
Ezabel, with Shubal and Ortok. And lastly came 
Ulin and Albia. The princess was pale and weak, 
and was forced to lean upon her conductor Tor sup 


The Executioner. 


199 


port ; and when she saw those three gigantic blacks, 
in their blood-red garments, standing upon the 
stained mat, a grOan of agony burst from her lips. 

‘‘ Ah, fair lady,” spoke Horam, bending a scowl- 
ing look upon the princess, ‘‘you are not a willing 
visitor to the palace of the king.” There was no 
sympathy in his tone, for there was no mercy in his 
soul. The appearance of the suffering face did not 
move him, for he knew that she suffered because she 
had been brought back within his power. 

“ I have no questions to ask,” he continued, “ for 
I know all ; and I should judge that you would ask 
no mercy.” 

“ Only this,” cried Ulin, breaking suddenly and 
unexpectedly from her guard, and sinking upon her 
knees at the king’s feet : “ Let me die first !” 

“Aha — you know that we have a work of death to 
do, it seems,” muttered Horam. “ But the death 
goes not quite so far as you apprehend. Your 
punishment is not death, though it may be that you 
will pray for death ere it comes to your relief. Get 
up, lady, and listen.” 

They raised the maiden up, and the king then 
said : 

“Your punishment is this : You shall witness the 
death of the bold robber to whom you would have 
given your false love — you shall witness the death of 
the traitorous eunuchs who led him from his former 
prison ; and then you shall be a prisoner during the 
rest of your life with no companionship save that of 
black eunuchs.” 

“Mercy ! mercy !” gasped the stricken girl, trying 


200 


The Scourge of Damascus. 


once more to reach the foot of the throne. But a 
strong arm held her back, and she could only raise 
her clasped hands to the king. 

Do you ask for mercy exclaimed the king. 
“ Where was the mercy you showed to me t Stand 
back, and let Julian be brought before me.’' 

They forced the fainting maiden from the throne, 
and the robber chieftain was led up in her place. 
His arms were folded upon his broad bosom, with the 
heavy chains hanging almost to his feet, and his head 
was borne erect. There was a deep pain-mark in his 
face, but it was not of fear for himself. 

Outlaw !” spoke Horam, through his shut teeth, 
and with his thin hands clenched, the hour has 
come in which you are to close your career of rapine 
and robbery ; and these people who have been friends 
to you, and who have given you protection in your 
crime, are to see your head fall. Perhaps you would 
ask for mercy.” 

‘‘ No !” said the chieftain. I ask no mercy at the 
hand of Horam of Damascus. Let the work be fin- 
ished as quickly as possible, and thus shall one more 
be added to the list of thy bloody deeds. I could 
wish to live that I might take more vengeance on 
thee.” 

And is there not one other thing for which you 
would live ?” asked the king, bending a searching, 
burning glance upon him. 

Julian started, and struggled ; but make no reply. 
And in a moment more Hpram turned to his chief 
executioner. 

“ Bel Dara, go now to your work. Let this man’s 


Conclusion. 


201 


head fall first. Your arm is strong, and your hand 
is sure. Bend him upon his knees, and watch for my 
signal.'* 

There was a low, wild cry breaking upon the air ; 
and as Julian turned his head, he saw Ulin, white 
and faint, in the arms of her attendant. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Before the grim executioners could bend the robber 
chieftain to his knees there was an interruption in 
the proceedings. The voice of Ben Hadad, stern and 
authoritative, sounded above all else : 

‘‘ King of Damascus, ere you stain your hands with 
that man’s blood, I must reveal to you a secret which 
it is fitting you should know." 

Had Horam never entertained any anxiety or 
curiosity concerning the youthful chieftain, he might 
not have heeded this interruption ; but even as the 
old man spoke, he was gazing upon the face of 
Julian, and vainly endeavoring to call to mind some- 
thing of the past with which those features were 
connected. He started as the words fell upon his 
ear, and raised his hand towards those who were 
about to stop the hermit’s lips. 

‘‘ Old man," he said, you speak of a secret. Do 
you think to trifle with me ?" 


202 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


No, sire. I have something of importance to 
communicate ; — or — I will cause it to be communi- 
cated unto you.” 

What does it concern ?” 

‘‘ It concerns the youth whom you have condemned 
to death. Had his life been spared, I never should 
have spoken this ; but since he must die, you shall 
know the quality of the blood that flows beneath the 
stroke of your executioner.” 

“ By the gods of both the worlds,” cried Horam, 
clapping his hands, you shall speak ! But beware 
how you speak. I have not yet condemned you to 
death ; and you will be wise if you do not move my 
anger.” , 

I have but to cause a simple story to be unfolded 
to your majesty,” replied Ben Hadad ; “ and if you 
will grant this woman speech, she will give you 
light.” 

The king looked hard into the face of Ezabel, and 
for the first time he seemed to be struck by some- 
thing familiar in her features. A moment he sat as 
if irresolute, and then he said, starting up as though 
his mind were fixed : 

Let the woman approach.” 

Ezabel came near to the throne, Ben Hadad walk- 
ing close behind her. 

Woman, what is it that you have to tell } Speak, 
and let not the words lag upon your lips.” 

” I speak by the request of Ben Hadad,” replied 
Ezabel ; ‘‘ and the story which I shall tell you is 
known only to the old hermit and myself. Even 
Julian himself knows not the secret I have to impart. 


Conchision. 


203 


and were he now upon the verge of death, no per- 
suasion should draw it from me. It maybe that the 
disclosure will consign me to your executioner ; but 
I care not.'* 

Speak f speak !’* exclaimed Horam, impatiently. 
“ Let me hear the story." 

All in that chamber were anxiously listening for 
the words that were to come. Ulin had so far 
recovered that she could lean upon the arm of her 
attendant and listen ; and even the black execu- 
tioners bent their brutish heads with interest. Julian 
himself gazed eagerly upon the woman, showing 
very plainly by his manner that he was as curious to 
know what she would say as were the others. 

“ Sire/' spoke the matron, calmly and distinctly, 
I shall waste no words. I was born in this city, 
and was married at an early age. One son was 
born to me, and then my husband died. Shortly 
after this bereavement I was called to nurse a sick 
child — a girl, some three years old — who was suffer- 
ing from an accident. The child recovered under 
my care, and as I had formed a strong attachment 
for her, and as she had also conceived the same for 
me, I was retained to attend upon her. Her parents 
were of the wealthiest of Damascus, and while they 
made it very pleasant for me to remain with their 
daughter, they also provided a good place for my 
son, Hobaddan. My charge grew up to be a beauti- 
ful maiden, and became my mistress ; and I served 
her with joy, for she was good and kind and gener- 
ous ; and I knew that she loved me. In time my 
mistress became a wife, and I went with her to her 


204 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


new home. For a few months all went pleasantly 
under this new relation ; but finally a dark cloud 
arose to obscure the heaven of my lady’s joy. Her 
husband became jealous of her — became so jealous 
that his soul was fraught with deadly vengeance. 
He fancied that his wife’s guilt had been proved, 
and he resolved to put her away from him forever. 
Her protestations availed nothing. He would not 
listen to her — he would not even allow her to 
approach him ; but he gave her into the hands of 
his executioners, and bade them drown her in the 
waters of the Pharphar. I discovered what was to 
be done, and slipped away from the home of the 
cruel husband, and sought my son, who had then 
become a stout youth. Hobaddan and I hid our- 
selves near the gates of the city, and when the execu- 
tioners came out, we followed them. They had with 
them a large sack, and I knew that my mistress was 
in it. We saw them sink that sack in the river — 
they sank it where the water was dark and deep 
— sank it in the middle of the night — and 
then went away. As soon as they were gone w'e 
hurried to the shore, and my -son plunged into the 
stream, and succeeded in bringing the sack to the 
land. We opened it, and my sweet mistress was 
taken forth, cold and senseless ; but she was not 
dead. Her heart still had motion, and after much 
labor we succeeded in bringing her back to conscious- 
ness. The next need was to find a safe shelter for 
her. We dared not take her back to the city. I 
thought of the hermit, Ben Hadad. I had heard 
that he was a benevolent man, and I resolved to 


Conclusion. 


205 


seek him. We found his cave ; and when he had 
heard my story, he promised to give us shelter, and 
to protect the unfortunate lady, 

“ My mistress so far recovered as to be able to sit 
up j but she could not get well. Her system had 
received too great a shock, and her poor heart was 
broken. In two weeks from the time when she 
entered the cave she gave birth to a son, and shortly 
afterwards she died. She died as pure and true as 
heaven itself, and her child was the offspring of an 
honor which no temptation could have tarnished. 
She died ; but the child lived and thrived — lived, 
and grew strong, and noble, and bold. We told him 
how his mother had been wronged ; but we did not 
tell him all. We did not tell him who his father 
was ; only we told him that he owed his orphanage 
to the king of Damascus. When he grew up he 
resolved that the king should suffer for the deed he 
had done, and subsequent events have proved that 
his resolution was not vain. 

“ This, sire, is the son of the woman who was my 
mistress. Julian, the Scourge of Damascus is the 
child I have reared. Would you know more ?” 

Horam sat in his great chair, with his hands 
clutched tightly upon the golden arms, and his 
whole frame quivering. 

O,” he gasped, the secret is nigh to the surface! 
What shall I ask V 

The king of Aleppo moved to Horam's side, and 
whispered in his ear. 

“ Aye/’ exclaimed the quaking monarch, when he 
had listened to the words of his brother, it shall 


2 o 6 The Scourge of Damascus. 


be so. What ho ! Benoni — clear this chamber of 
all save this old man and woman, and this — this — 
Julian ! Lead them out quickly, and remain with 
them to watch them.’* 

In a few moments the two kings were alone with 
the three prisoners who had been designated. 

Now — now — speak !” 

‘‘ King of Damascus,” said the aged hermit, taking 
a step forward, “allow me to tell you the rest. The 
suns of almost a hundred years have rolled over my 
head, and not yet have I willingly deceived a fellow 
creature to his injury. What this woman has told 
you is true. The lady who was brought to my cave 
three-and-twenty years ago — who gave birth to a 
child there — and who died in Ezabel’s arms, was 
Helena, Queen of Damascus ! And the son which 
she bore was the son of the king — I swear it ; and in 
support thereof, I pledge my soul’s salvation !” 

Julian stood like one thunderstruck. He raised 
his manacled hands to his brow, and tried to realize 
the force of the wonderful thing he had heard. 

Horam started to his feet, and then sank back, 
and buried his face in his hands. His thoughts had 
suddenly flown from the story of the present hour to 
that other story which he had heard on the night 
before ; and the crash almost took away his senses. 

Omar, when he saw how matters stood, felt called 
upon to speak ; for he believed that he had dis- 
covered two things : First, that his old friend and 
brother was struggling to open his breast to his 
child ; and, second, that Julian might be brought to 
forgiveness when he knew the whole truth, . 


Conclusion, 


207 


“ My friends/' he said, rising to his feet as he 
spoke, the story is not yet complete. It remains 
for me to finish it." 

Ben Hadad and Ezabel ’gazed eagerly up into his 
face ; and Julian leaned toward him, with a beam of 
hope struggling upon his brow. 

I am to blame in this matter ; or, at least, I was 
the innocent cause," continued the King of Aleppo, 
addressing Ben Hadad and Ezabel. It was I who 
gave to Horam the evidence upon which he con- 
demned his wife. I supposed the guilt of the lady 
Helena was positive, as I had the information from 
officers who would not lie ; and I felt it my duty to 
acquaint the husband with the circumstances. On 
my way back to my capital, while stopping in 
Balbec, I gained information which assured me that 
the Queen of Damascus was innocent ; and immedi- 
ately I sent back two of my officers to convey intelli- 
gence thereof to Horam. But those messengers 
never reached their destination. They must have 
been robbed and murdered on the way. I pursued 
my course homeward, and amid the duties of my 
realm, the thing passed from my mind. Yesterday I 
saw Horam for the first time in three-and-twenty 
years ; and last evening I revealed to him the fact 
that his first and best beloved wife, Helena, was 
wrongfully accused — that she was pure and true. 
When this truth burst upon him, his grief overcame 
him, and I feared that the shock would kill him. 

Aye," cried Horam, starting up again, it did 
almost kill me ; for Helena was my first love, and 


2o8 


The Scourge of Damascus, 


her place was never refilled. O, my brother what 
can I do ?’* 

“ Do what is right/' replied Omar, taking Horam’s 
outstretched hand. ** Be a man, and let the heart 
assert its sway. Remember that you did the first 
great deed of wrong ; and that all the other evil has 
flowed out from that one unfortunate act.” 

The king of Damascus stood for a moment with 
his head bowed upon Omar’s shoulder, and his hand 
still in Omar’s grasp. Then he started up, and his 
countenance had changed. 

By the blood of my heart,” he exclaimed, ‘‘the 
wrong shall not grow deeper against me ! What, 
ho ! Without, there ! Slaves ! — attend me !” 

The executioners chanced to be nearest, and they 
answered the call. 

“ Bel-Dara, strike those irons from that man’s 
limbs ! Strike off every bond, and set him free ! If 
you harm him as much as the prick of a rose-thorn, 
your life shall answer for it !” 

The executioner stopped to ask no questions — he 
did not even stop to wonder at the order ; but he 
proceeded to the work, and in a very few minutes 
the prisoner was free. 

Then the king started down from the throne, and 
advanced to where the freed man stood. 

“My son,” he said, extending both his hands, “ the 
truth has come so naked and so plain, that there is 
no room for doubt ; and I now see that you bear 
upon your face the features of your noble mother — 
God pardon me for the wrong I was led to do her ! 
And, my son, — here, in the presence of these wit- 


Conclusion, 


209 


nesses, I ask you to forget the past — I ask you to be 
my son — I ask you to let me be your father ; — and 
then, O, then, Horam will be no more childless 

Julian had no power to resist the appeal ; and as 
the old king tottered forward the son supported him 
upon his bosom, and sustained him in the embrace 
of his stout arms. 

And yet Julian was not content. His face wore 
still a cloud ; and there was trouble in his heart. 

What could it mean ? Horam feared that his son 
could not quite love him. 

Omar saw the trouble, and divined its cause ; and 
stepping quickly forward he whispered into the ear 
of his brother. Horam caught at the words, and 
the star of hope beamed again. He clapped his 
hands and cried out : 

“ What, ho ! Without ! Where is Benoni ?’* 

The captain came. 

Benoni, bring the lady Ulin !’' 

Pale and trembling the princess entered the 
chamber ; but when she saw Julian alive and free, 
with the shackles broken at his feet, the blood leaped 
again through her veins. But she had not much 
opportunity for thought, for the king quickly ad- 
vanced and took her hand, and led her to Julian. 

My son, this do I give thee in token of my sin- 
cerity ! Now wilt thou own me for thy father, and 
forget all of the past save that which tells that we 
are of one flesh ? Take this fair hand, and with it 
my forgiveness to you both — my forgiveness to all 
who have befriended you. Take it, my son, and Qre 
Omar leaves us for his Northern realm he shall see 


210 The Scourge of Damascus, 


Horam’s own son sitting upon the throne of Damas- 
cus, while Horam himself withdraws from the world, 
that his last days may be spent in quiet repose.” 

No longer rested the cloud upon Julian’s brow. 
He caught the small white hand which had been 
placed within his grasp, and sank down upon his 
knees — sank down, he and Ulin, one in love forever- 
more — and bowed before the king. 

My father — I accept the blessing ! I am thy 
son !” 


THE END. 


A LOVE MATCH 


BY 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of The Gunmaker of Moscow f etc, 

WITH NUMEROUS CHOICE ILLUSTRATIONS BY Q, A. TRAVER, 


Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 


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F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
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The Breach of Custom 


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With Seven BlustratlGiuk 


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AN AMERICAN NOVEL 


Parted By Fate; 

OR, 

The Mystery of Black-Tor Lighthouse. 


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Since the death of the author of ^^Old Ma’mselle’s Secret,” 
Werner is the most popular of living German writers. Her 
novels are written with great literary ability, and possess the 
charm of varied character, incident and scenery. The Northern 
Light ” is one of her most characteristic stories. The heroine is 
a woman of great beauty and strength of individuality. No less 
interesting is the young poet who, from beginning to end, con- 
stantly piques the curiosity of the reader. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


BERYL’S HUSBAND 


BY 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 


Author of Lady Kildare f Sundered Hearts f Her 

Double Lifef etc. 


WITH NVMEB0V8 FULHPAQE ILLUSTRATIONS BY G, A, TBAVER. 

Paper Cover, 60 cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 


A very charming story. It opens on the shores of Lake Leman, 
in the romantic city of Geneva, under the shadow of Mont Blanc. 
A young English girl, who has been educated at a boarding- 
school at Vevay, is suddenly left without natural guardians and 
means of support. Her beauty and interesting character attract 
a young English traveller, who induces her to run away with him 
and marry him. This is the beginning of a romantic novel of 
extraordinary vicissitudes and adventures. To give an analysis 
of the plot and situations would mar the interest of the reader. 
It is sufficient to say that it is equal to the best of Mrs. Lewis’s 
novels, not excepting Her Double Life” and ^^Lady Kildare.” 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A NEW NOVEL 

By the Popular Author, Mrs. Amelia E. Barr. 


THE BEADS OF TASMER. 

BY 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr. 

12mo., 395 pages. Handsomely Bound in English. Cloth. Beauti- 
fully Illustrated by W. B. Davis. Uniform with ‘‘A Matter 
of Millions” and “The Forsaken Inn,” by Anna Katharine 
Green. Price, $1.25. 


‘‘The Beads of Tasmer,” by Mrs. Amelia E. Barr, is a power- 
ful and interesting story of Scotch life. The singular and strenu- 
ous ambition which a combination of ancient pride and modern 
greed inspires ; the loveliness of the Scotch maidens, both High- 
landers and Lowlanders ; the deep religious nature of the people; 
the intense manifestation of these characteristic traits by Scotch 
lovers of high and low degree ; the picturesque life of the country, 
involving the strangest vicissitudes of fortune and the exhibition 
of the most loving and loyal devotion, constitute a theme which 
is of the highest intrinsic interest, and which is developed by the 
accomplished authoress with consummate art and irresistible 
power. “ The Beads of Tasmer ” is certainly one of Mrs. Barr’s 
very best works, and we shall be much mistaken if it does not take 
high rank among the most successful novels of the century. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid on 
receipt of $1.25 by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Corner William and Spruce Sts., New York. 


Ottilie Aster’s 
Silence. 

A NOVEL. 

Translated From the German 


By MRS. D. M. LOWREY. 


With Nniuerotis Choice XHnstratiosis By Warren B. Davis* 

Pape? Cover, 50 Gents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 


No more charming story of the love-life of a married couple 
was ever portrayed in the pages of a novel. Romance does 
not end with marriage, and it does not require any demon- 
stration to prove it; but if it did, this novel shows how great 
are the elements of romantic interest which exist in the marriage 
relation. There is in it the beauty of family life in a pure 
household, and the mother and daughter exhibit all the beautiful 
traits which endear women to men and make the charm of the 
world. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt oi 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Corner William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


Five Y ears 

WITH THE 

Congo Cannibals. 

By HERBERT WARD. 


MagnoMcently HLtistrated With Many FoU-Paire En^avingrs Alter 
Origrinal Brawingrs Made on the Spot By the Author. Orown 
Ootavo, Eleerantly Bound, $8.00. 


Herbert Ward^s book is the record of five years spent with the 
most savage tribes of the far interior ot Africa. It contains 
many facts, hitherto unknown, concerning the life, customs and 
superstitions of the cannibal races. It abounds with thrilling 
adventures, and the story it tells of risks and dangers encountered 
in strange places, and among wild and hostile people, is one of 
fascinating interest. A flood of light is thrown on the horrors 
and cruelties existing among the millions of Central Africa. 

Mr Ward^s travels in Africa commenced in 1884, when he re- 
ceived an appointment in the service of the Congo Free State. 
He was a member of the Emin Bey Relief Expedition, and while 
in the service of Mr. H. M. Stanley, he made his fnemorable canoe 
journey of eleven hundred miles on the Congo. 

His book contains entirely new matter about the tribes of Cen- 
tral Africa, will have permanent interest and value, and will be 
the standard work on that subject 


**The iFall of the Christians” in Book Porm, 
Under the Title of 


PAOLI, 

The Last of the Missionaries 

A Picture of the Overthrow of the Christians in 
Japan in the Seventeenth Century. 


By W. C. KITGHIN. 

Superbly Illustrated Witb Large and Small Engravings From 
Designs By Q-. A, Traver and Henry Boucbe. 12mo. 600 

Pages. Handsomely Bound in Olotli. Price, $1.00. 


This is a stirring romance in an entirely new field. There 
are a freshness and novelty about it which are vastly attractive. 
Japan is not altogether an unknown land, but few are aware 
of the treasures of romance and adventure in its history. It was 
the scene of the missionary labors of the great Catholic, Francis 
Xavier. The overthrow, in the seventeenth century, of the 
Christian converts of the Catholic missionary who had achieved a 
powerful position, is the greatest event in Japanese annals. The 
story introduces all the great historical personages of this epoch, 
and combines the fascination of a novel with the interest of 
historical truth. 


A TTNIVEllSALLT EOPXTLAlt BOOK. 


Great Senators of the United States 


FORTY YEARS AGO, 


By OLIVER DYER, 

Is, beyond all question, the most popular book that has been 
published in many years. Mr. Dyer was a reporter in the 
United States Senate in 1848 and 1849, and he gives vivid 
sketches of Calhoun, Benton, Clay, Webster, Gen. Houston, 
Jefferson Davis, William H. Seward, Martin Van Buren, and 
other distinguished statesmen of that period. 


EXTRACTS EROM NOTICES BY THE PRESS. 

These portraits are among the most graphic and luminous of their 
kind. They are studied and discriminated with careful nicety: 
and they show the men both as they looked and as they felt and 
acted.--N. Y. Tribune* 

Among the recent contributions to American history none is 
worthy of more serious attention than a volume entitled “Great 
Senators,” by Oliver Dyer. It would be easy to fill columns with 
effective extracts from this volume.-— N. Y. Sun, 

It is impossible to read Mr. Dyer’s reminiscences without being 
aware that the impressions he reports were genuine. No reader of 
the generation following his own can fail to derive from his re- 
miniscences a fresh view of the great men to whom this volume is 
devoted. — N. Y. Times, 

Oliver Dyer has written and Robert Bonner’s Sons have published 
a handy volume as to “ Great Senators of the United States Forty 
Years Ago.” In it are told, as Dyer only could tell, stories of 
Calhoun, Benton, Clay, Webster, Houston and Jeff Davis, with 
personal recollections and delineations. Every library and every 
schoolhouse should have this enjoyable book.— N. Y. Press, 

“ Great Senators,” by Oliver Dyer, is a reminiscence of forty years 
ago, by one who is one of the veterans of the New York Press. 
The sketches here given are peculiarly valuable, as they are taken 
from nature, and, by a sudden flash, give an insight into character. 
We could fill columns with extracts from these delightful pages, 
but we shall give not one, because we prefer to send our readers to 
the book itself.— N. Y. Evangelist, 


RETAIL PRICE OF ‘‘GREAT SENATORS,” $1.00. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Corner William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A NATIONAL BOOK. 


The New 

By HENRY W. 


South, 

GRADY. 


With a Character Sketch of 

HENRY W. GRADY, 

By OLIVER DYER, 

Author of “ Great Senators/* 


16xno* Bound in Cloth. Uniform With “Q-reat Senators.** With 
Portrait. Price, $1.00. 


The New South ” is a work of national importance. It is an 
eloquent presentation of the changed condition of the South, the 
facts of her present growth and prosperity, and the resources which 
insure her magnificent destiny. Mr. Grady was an ardent pa- 
triot. His imagination was aflame with bright visions of the fu- 
ture of his beloved country. He had a mind which was equal to 
his great heart, and he undertook the splendid task of educating 
and enlightening his countrymen, and exhibiting the inexhaustible 
riches of her fertile soil, her beds of coal and iron, her great staple, 
the cotton of the world’s commerce, and her majestic water 
courses which furnish the power and assurance of empire. His 
book is his monument. 

Mr. Dyer’s character sketch of Henry W. Grady is an admir- 
able account of the great orator and journalist. It will be read 
with enthusiastic approval by every friend and admirer of Mr. 
Grady in the North as well as in the South. The author of 

Great Senators ” has grasped the character and presented the 
spiritual side of his subject with a power and truth which indicate 
a great writer. 

RETAIL PRICE OF ‘‘THE NEW SOUTH, $i.oo. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Corner William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE LEDGER LIBRARY. 


1. —HER. DOUBIiE EIFEo By Mrs. HARRIET Lewis. Paper Cover, 

50 CentSc Bound Volume, $1.00. 

2. — UNKNOWN. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

3. — GUNMAKER OF MOSCOWo BY Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 

Cover, 25 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

4. — MAUD MORTON. By Major Alfred R. Calhoun. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

5. — THE HIDDEN HAND. By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

6. — SUNDERED HEARTS. By Mrs. Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

7. — THE STONE-CUTTER OF LISBON. By Wm. HENRY PECK. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

8. — Lady KILDARE. by Mrs. Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 

Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

9. — CRIS ROCK. By Captain Mayne Reid. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 

Bound Volume, $1.00. 

10. — NEAREST AND DEAREST. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

11. — THE BAILIFF’S SCHEME. By Mrs. HARRIET Lewis. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

12. — A LEAP IN THE DARK. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

13. — HENRY M. STANLEY. By Henry Frederic Reddall. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

14. — THE OLD LIFE’S SHADOWS. By MRS. HARRIET Lewis. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

15. — A MAD BETROTHAL. BY LAURA JEAN LiBBEY. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

10.— THE LOST LADY OF LONE. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

17. — lONE. By Laura Jean Libbey. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound 

Volume, $1.00. 

18. — FOR WOMAN’S LOVE. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents, Bound Volume, $L00. 

19. — CESAR BIROTTEAU. By Honore Be Balzac. Paper Cover, 50 

Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

20. — THE BARONESS BLANK. By AUGUST Niemann. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

21. — PARTED BY FATE. By Laura Jean Libbey. Paper Cover, 50 

Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

22. — THE FORSAKEN INN. By Anna KATHARINE Green. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.50. 

23. — OTTILIE ASTER’S SILENCE. From the German, By Mrs. D. M. 

Lowrey. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

24. — EDDA’S BIRTHRIGHT. By Mrs. Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

25. — THE ALCHEMIST. From the French of Honore Be Balzac. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

26. — UNDER OATH. — An Adirondack Story. By Jean Kate Ludlum. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

27. — COUSIN PONS. From the French of Honore Be Balzac. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

28. — THE UNLOVED WIFE, By Mrs. E. B. E. N. Southworth. Paper 

Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

29. — LILITH. By Mrs. E. B. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 

Bound Volume, $1.00. 

30. — REUNITED. By A POPULAR SOUTHERN Author. Paper Cover, 50 

Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

ai.— MRS. HAROLD STAGG. By Robert Grant. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

32. — THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. Translated from the German by Mrs. 

B. M. Lowrey. Paper Cover, 50 Ceuts. Bound Volume, $1.00 

33. -THE NORTHERN LIGHT. Translated fi’om the German of E. 

Werner. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

34. — BERYL’S HUSBAND. By Mrs. Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 

Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 


THE POPULAR SERIES 


A New 25'-Cent Library of Copyright 

Novels 

For Sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers. 


Conialniig the Best Stories ol the lollowing 
Popular Americau Authors; 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., William O. Stoddard, 

Leon Lewis, Gapt. Frederick Whittaker, 

Major Alfred R. Calhoun, Eliza A. Bupuy, 
and many others. 


Issued February 7th. 

1. -THE OUTCAST OF MILAN. A Companion story to “ The 

G-unmaker of Moscow.” By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 
Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued February 21st. 

2. --R0LL0 OF NORMANDY. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued March 7th. 

3. --MART SATTERLEE AMONG THE INDIANS. By William 

O. Stoddard. Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued March 21st. 

4. --KIT CARSON’S LAST TRAIL. By Leon Lewis. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued April 7th. 

5. --THE SCOURGE OF DAMASCUS. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued April 21st. 

6. --THE GREAT KENTON FEUD. By Capt. Frederick Whit- 

taker. Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued May 7th. 

7. -LUKE HAMMOND THE MISER. By Wm. Henry Peck. 

Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Gor. William and Spruce Sts., New York Gity. 


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